


Keep A Light In My Window

by Rinniebee



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AKA I make up my own canon, Alternate Universe, Artistic Liberties, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, But does follow some canon sometimes, Canonical age changes, Canonical story detail changes, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Jason Todd goes to ivy league, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason Todd is bisexual, Jason Todd lives, Minor Background Relationships, Minor Original Character(s), No editing we die like mne, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Talia al Ghul is my WIFE and she is not evil just complex ok, The Joker dies in the first chapter, Therapy, Tim Drake is Robin, We hate the joker, batfamily, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinniebee/pseuds/Rinniebee
Summary: Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer but he had the blood of a crazy man on his hands. It wasn’t his fault, really. Any good brother would’ve killed the man responsible for torturing his younger one. Dick was just doing what had to be done, not that Bruce could understand that.--Jason and Sheila survive the warehouse incident, the Joker is dead, and life goes on.





	1. year -3 | part one

Bruce Wayne couldn’t help but stare at his son.

He hadn’t really moved in days, the toiletry bag Alfred brought him forgotten on a different hospital chair. No one said anything to him about it, but what could they say, anyway? _Leave your son’s bedside and go get changed_ ? It was pointless, meaningless. Bruce didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Not when Jason had almost died, not when Jason could _still_ die.

Technically, Jason was stable now but stable didn’t mean what a lot of people seemed to _think_ it meant. One single complication could ruin everything, take him away for good. There was a lump in Bruce’s throat but he didn’t swallow it down, he let it exist. This was his fault, anyway. He could live with the goddamn guilt just as long as Jason made it out of here okay. His son had broken ribs, a shattered arm, and a broken leg. One of his lungs had collapsed, too, but they managed to save it.

“Master Bruce?” Bruce didn’t look away from Jason, but he leaned back a little just to let Alfred know he heard him. “I’ve come with news of Ms. Haywood. She’s been released from hospital and arrested. How would you like to proceed?”

He frowned, unsure. It was rare that he didn’t have the answers to a question like this, but this situation was delicate. “I just want to focus on Jason for now.”

“Quite understandable, sir. However, I should warn you that the police will be expecting a statement from you and Master Dick rather soon.”

Bruce didn’t say a word, and just like that Alfred was gone. Bruce licked his bottom lip, it was cracked and dry. He bit at one of the ridges, pulling at his skin with his teeth until it ripped and he tasted blood. He didn’t feel the pain at all, he wasn’t sure he would feel anything until his son opened his eyes.

_Come on, Jaylad. Come back to me._

 

\-- 

 

Dick Grayson wasn’t a murderer but he had the blood of a crazy man on his hands.

It wasn’t his fault, really. Any _good_ brother would’ve killed the man responsible for torturing his younger one. Dick was just doing what had to be done, not that Bruce could understand that. His relationship with Jason hadn’t always been great. Dick had never _hated_ his little brother, but at some point he had certainly been jealous of him. Jason was all Bruce and Alfred talked about.

_Did you know Jason likes being in school more than being Robin? Did you know that Jason has a 4.5 GPA and is looking at Ivy League? Can you believe that Jason spent a whole month organizing a field trip for his class to the Gotham Art Museum?_

Everything was about Jason. _Jason Jason Jason_. Yeah, Dick got it. Jason was the better son. The real son. The _wanted_ son. And sure, at some point he’d been bitter, but six years was a long time to get over something. Dick still hated the way Bruce bragged about him, but Dick had come to love Jason Todd just as much anyone else. His baby brother was quick, sharp-witted, super smart, compassionate, and just had an overall love for life. Jason came from an abusive father, a drugged out (but loving) mother, and a crazy birth-mother who would sell her own son out if it meant living another day. And despite all that? Jason remained the most optimistic person Dick knew.

It was a running gag in the family that Dick was the annoying ray of sunshine and sure, maybe he was personality-wise, but Jason had _tenacity_. He kept pushing even when things got downright batshit awful. Jason fought and fought and fought for life. And that was why when some fucked up chemically-driven insane clown tried to take that life, Dick snapped. Anyone would.

And who cared if the Joker was dead? It was what he deserved. You don’t get to torture a kid and make it out alive.

 _“Some things are worse than death,”_ is what Bruce always told him and Jason. But no, sometimes death was just what someone deserved.

These thoughts scared him, honestly; they downright terrified him because Dick _wasn’t_ a murderer, but if he had to do it all over again? Yeah, he’d kill the Joker in a fucking heartbeat. He knew Bruce would never forgive him for it, but that was okay. If it took Bruce hating him for Jason to be safe, it would be a consequence well worth it.

Dick rested his head against the wall just outside Jason’s hospital room, just listening to the sounds of his vitals. Jason was gonna fight to come back to them, ‘cause that’s what he was damn good at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, hello!
> 
> My name is Rin and I am new to writing for the Batman fandom but I've been lurking around and reading some Jason-centric fics for quite a while now. Got the idea to write an AU where Jason survives the warehouse and gets to go to university just like he wanted. This story is more focused on obtaining a healthier relationship between the Batfamily and keeping them close in a way that makes sense and I believe is true to the characters.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Please be sure to leave me a comment as feedback keeps this train going. Thanks so much for reading <3


	2. year -3 | part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason wakes up, some time passes and everyone's kind sorta mad at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference sake in this fic, Jason was taken in by Bruce at age 9. Dick is older than Jason by 5 years.  
> Jason is currently 15, going on 16 in year -3 which makes Dick 20/21 or so. And Bruce is more than likely around 37 at this point. I think that's it for the important stuff! Other character ages will be shifted in this story since it is canon divergence, just as a warning. 
> 
> Also, I won't be updating this quickly on the regular. This is just part two to the first chapter, so they kind of go hand in hand and I didn't want to make anyone wait. The format of the story will probably change the more we get into things as well. But you can expect weekly updates around Friday or Saturday! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment. I thrive off of them and it helps me to write faster/write more when you guys interact. Thank you to everyone who has commented thus far, it means a lot to me!

There is a song that his mother used to love, but Jason can’t remember what it’s called. He remembers Catherine humming it in the kitchen while she made dinner, swaying in a sundress during the summer months. Their apartment used to get _so hot_ , Jason remembers and he feels like he’s back there now, dancing in the hot kitchen with his mom before collapsing on the floor and fanning his red face. Except for some reason it’s hard to breathe and he can hear Dick and Bruce screaming, though their words make absolutely no sense, and Jason? Jason just wants to go home, back to the manor where it’s cool and Alfred serves him refreshing homemade lemonade.

He jerks but he barely feels it. If anything it feels like he’s floating in a pool of nothing. He can’t feel anything but the heat. He tries to move his arm but nothing happens. He tries to sit up, nothing again. And finally someone tells him that it’s okay, to stop fighting, just relax. The voice kind of sounds like his brother, but he isn’t sure.

Either way, he listens and rests.

 

\--

 

Dick could still hear the maniacal laugh of the Joker as he died.

It plagued him, stopped him from sleeping, and wracked him with guilt. He still didn’t regret doing what he did, but he hated the way Bruce looked at him now--like a time bomb waiting to go off. Dick knew what Bruce thought, that if Dick had killed once then he would kill again, but Dick didn’t think that was true. He knew himself. He knew his own heart. There was no way he was about to just go on a killing spree, but it hurt him to know that’s what Bruce thought he was capable of.

Honestly, it’d felt good to smack the Joker with his crowbar. Better than good, actually, and when he’d heard Jason whimpering in pain Dick had just _lost it._ His baby brother, with his shattered bones and collapsed lung, still trying to fight after being tortured and beaten while the woman who gave birth to him just watched and the Joker laughed. It wasn’t hard to keep hitting the clown over and over again. At first it was just cathartic and then Dick thought about what he’d done to Barbara, too and he realized he never wanted to see that demon walk or hear him talk again, so he’d kept going.

Technically, the clown was still alive when the emergency crew arrived, but he’d died on his way to the hospital.

Bruce had been screaming for Dick to stop but the words were empty and the Joker had laughed about it (“You want your pretty little son to kill me, don’t you, Batsy?!”) Dick didn’t have any compassion left for a monster like the Joker. No one should. And Bruce would be lying if he said his immediate reaction to hearing the Joker had died wasn’t plain and simple relief. Dick saw it in his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. Bruce could take the moral high ground all he wanted, but Dick knew the truth.

And he supposed Bruce knew it, too, ‘cause once it hit him that was when the rage started.

 _“He won, don’t you see that?! He won!”_ Bruce’s words didn’t make any sense. Would he have preferred the mad man who kidnapped and tortured his son to be alive than have Dick be the one who took him out? _“Once you stoop to their level, you’re just as bad as they are!”_

Dick definitely thought the ‘no killing’ rule had more to do with Bruce’s childhood PTSD than anything else, but Alfred’s sharp eye told him to hold his tongue. So, hold his tongue he did.

He liked the distance between them right now, anyway. Made returning to Bludhaven easier. This was his city and the fact that Bruce hated it here only made Dick like it more. His apartment was a goddamn mess, though, and he didn’t have the energy to clean it up. Dick collapsed on the couch, his muscles sore from a long day as Officer Grayson and an even longer night as Nightwing. It was coming up at five in the morning and he was down right exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep, not with the laughter of the Joker swirling around in his head. Dick tried to focus on something else.

It had been at least a two weeks now, maybe a two and a half, since they transferred Jason from Ethiopia and back to Gotham. Alfred had wanted to move him sooner, but Bruce was paranoid that somehow Jason would catch a cold which would then turn into pneumonia and he’d die. Dick didn’t think Bruce was anymore convinced now that was no longer a possibility, but Jason had woken up and demanded familiar surroundings.

The joys of being rich meant that Jason didn’t have to stay in the hospital when Bruce could afford twenty-four-hour care, not that Jason had been very happy with that, either. His little brother was inconsolable after the accident. At first he hadn’t remembered much. The doctors had put him into a medically induced coma to heal and Dick had been in the room when he first woke up. Jason’s memory was fragmented but he knew who everyone was at least.

Once all the tubes were taken out, Jason had looked over at Bruce with tired blue eyes and said, _“Dad…? What happened?”_

The room had been silent. Jason didn’t refer to Bruce as his father very often, but whenever he did everyone tried to hold onto the moment. Dick still hadn’t referred to Bruce that way at all. He had a dad. Couldn’t really remember him as well as he would have liked to, but he _had_ one and John Grayson was a great man. Bruce was, too, of course, but Dick always felt a little guilty when he thought about it. Deep down, Dick knew that Bruce Wayne had become his dad but he’d be damned if he admitted it any time soon.

 _“Jay… Jaybird…”_ Bruce whispered, stroking Jason’s cheeks with his thumb. Dick had looked away as Bruce cried into his son’s curls. _“Oh, thank God. Thank God. I thought I lost you.”_

Jason chuckled but it was high, thin, and wheezy. On the verge of hysterical. _“Geez, Bruce, c’mon. You gotta tell me what happened to make_ you _cry.”_

No one had wanted to tell Jason what happened. It was a miracle he didn’t remember, but it wouldn’t have been fair to keep it from him. Bruce sobered up quickly, blinking back his tears as he relayed the story. Jason ran off to Ethiopia to find his birth mother, Sheila Haywood. He didn’t know she’d been working with the Joker and she lured him out to a warehouse where the clown was waiting. Jason had wound up tied to a chair, beaten and tortured over and over until his bones were shattered and he was on the verge of death. Nightwing and Batman had come before the Joker was finished with his fun. There had been a bomb, but everyone got out in time. Everyone was fine. Jason was fine.

 _“But… What, what happened to my mom…?”_ Jason asked, his voice hoarse and tight almost as if he were afraid of the answer.

 _“She’s with the police, little wing,”_ Dick said, reaching out and touching Jay’s good shoulder. _“She wasn’t hurt at all. You can talk to her when you’re better.”_

Jason had just laid back against his pillows without a word, his eyes a little glassy.

Bruce glared at Dick, probably for putting that idea in Jason’s head. Dick wouldn’t apologize.

Over time, things only got worse. Jason lashed out at every little thing. He was angry about what what happened to him, he was angry that Bruce and Dick were fighting, and most importantly, he was angry at himself. Dick tried to talk him down, but it didn’t work and soon enough that anger got turned on Bruce.

To no ones shock, Bruce had gone back to his usual stoicism. _“Jason can be mad at me all he wants. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m his father.”_

Dick didn’t know how to argue with that, so he didn’t.

And now that Jason was home? Well, from what Dick heard things had calmed down a little but Jason was still upset. Bruce wouldn’t let him talk to Sheila Haywood at all and Jason had responded to that with a pretty serious temper tantrum. If it were up to him, Jason would’ve talked to Sheila already but with Bruce so pissed at him, Dick didn’t feel remotely comfortable going behind his back with this no matter how much Jason begged.

_“Please, Dick!”_

_“Jay… I can’t. Look, I_ want _to, but if I do this? I don’t think Bruce will let me back in the cave, much less back in the house.”_

 _“He won’t kick you out!”_ Jason had argued. Dick remembered how offended his little brother looked at the idea. His baby face had only devolved further into horror when Dick told him that Bruce had already done it once before. _“I thought you_ chose _to leave back then? That’s why you guys finally came clean and gave me Robin!”_

That had been back just a little after Jason learned about Bruce Wayne and Batman being one in the same. They had gone _years_ without telling him the truth. It was just easier that way. Dick had agreed to the cover story because he’d had only been eighteen at the time. Jason had been thirteen and living at the manor for four years already. They hadn’t been close then, not as close as they were now, anyway. Dick still felt bad about the lies.

He sighed and threw an arm over his eyes. Maybe this weekend he would go visit Jason and have (another) a serious talk with Bruce.

 

\--

 

“I hate you!” Jason screamed at Bruce, throwing a book across his room with terrifying accuracy considering his good arm was still wrapped in a cast. The book missed it’s mark nonetheless, but still.

His son was angrier than Bruce had seen him in a long time. In some ways it was understandable. Jason had only found out a week ago that his mother--whom he didn’t even know, yet loved greatly for some reason or another--had been sentenced to life in prison and that Bruce had no intention of letting him see her. Bruce had hoped they could've talked about it today, but Jason was pretty determined about wanting nothing to do with Bruce. In the end, his son would probably cry and apologize about his behaviour to Alfred later, but Jason wouldn't apologize to Bruce. He was just too stubborn for that.

Bruce sighed and stared at the now dented book laying on the ground. “I know, but this is for your own protection. I hope one day you’ll see that.”

“Get out!” Jason scowled in that way that made him look like an adorable feral cat.

Bruce looked at him sadly, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Okay.” He turned to go just as Jason called for him to wait. He turned back, not wanting to be too hopeful. “Yes, Jay?”

“Give me back my book.”

Bruce could have laughed, but he didn’t. His heart was too heavy. He bent down and grabbed _Anne of Green Gables_ and tossed it, very lightly, back onto Jason’s bed.

“You’re welcome,” he said dryly before taking his exit.

 

For once in his life, Bruce was actually thankful for one of Gotham’s annoying charity galas. It was good to get dressed up, wear his favourite cufflinks, and pretend to be someone who was beloved by all. The rejection of both his sons hit him harder than he wanted to admit. Death to Bruce Wayne. Tonight was Brucie’s night.

 

By the time Bruce got home, Alfred was already in bed and the manor was quiet. Bruce made his way up to his room, shrugged off his suit and traded it for casual lounge wear before he went and checked on Jason. The light was still on, but Jason was fast asleep and he wasn’t alone. He was curled up around Dick, who was up reading one of Jason’s books. Dick let the book slip a little and looked up at Bruce.

“How was the gala?”

Bruce shrugged. “It was nice.”

“That’s good.”

This was one of their more civil conversations, but Bruce could feel the tension settling into the room. He didn’t see a murderer when he looked at his eldest, but he saw someone fraying at the edges. Dick was exhausted all the time (not that Bruce could talk), and he hadn’t been hanging out with the Titans much, either. Reaching out to Kory had been an act of desperation, but she hadn’t sold her boyfriend out. Bruce respected that.

“How long has he been out?”

“Couple of hours. Those painkillers really do him in.”

Bruce nodded. “He doesn’t like them, but they’re necessary for now.” He didn’t know why he was acting so defensive.

Dick gave him a strange look. “I know.” He closed the book and put it on the dresser, hardlines settling into his face. Bruce’s stomach dropped a little. “Look, we need to talk about Sheila.”

“Not here.”

“If he wakes up, he wakes up,” Dick said, matter-of-fact, as if he were the one to call the shots now.

Bruce took a deep breath and counted to ten. Jason didn’t need to wake up to a screaming match. “Not. Here.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

The way Dick handled Jason was so gentle and soft that Bruce had a hard time believing this was the same man who’d beaten the Joker to death with his own weapon of choice. Bruce tried to get those memories out, but Dick didn’t know how downright _crazed_ he had looked smashing the Joker over and over again as the clown laughed. He could at least push the memories away for now.

“Where do you want to talk?” Dick asked.

“The cave.”

They made their way down in silence, neither one of them willing to say a word. Bruce collapsed in his chair with a sigh and rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on already and Dick hadn’t even started screaming about how he knew what was best for Jason yet.

“I think you should let Jason talk to Sheila.”

Bruce frowned. “That’s not happening, Dick.”

“Why not? She pleaded guilty, she’s going to be locked up for life, and the kid is losing his mind. He has a mother out there and yeah, she’s awful, but he _needs_ closure.”

Bruce was silent for a moment. He considered what Dick had to say, but in the end he didn’t agree. The urge to fight was all drained out of him, though. Bruce could go out every night as Batman and beat up criminals until they were black and blue, but fighting with his children drained him more than anything else in the world.

“What if…” He paused, sucking his bottom lip under his teeth for a moment. Letting others in on his fears had never been his strong suit, but he supposed he owed it to Dick to be honest. “What if she gets out somehow and she… comes back for him and does something _worse_ next time? I can’t let her near him.”

Dick shrugged like it was a non-issue. “You and I aren’t going to let anything like that happen.”

Bruce shook his head. “No, I don’t want you anywhere near this.”

“Well, that’s too bad ‘cause this is my little brother we’re talking about.”

Bruce groaned and placed his head in his hands. “I really don’t want to fight with you about this right now, Dick.”

“Then don’t. Do you really think I’m some crazy murderer, Bruce?”

He looked up, staring his eldest in the eye. “No.” It was an honest answer. “But I don’t know if I can trust you not to kill again.”

“It was an extreme case, and I saw the way you looked at the Joker, Bruce. You were ready to kill him yourself!”

“I wouldn’t.” That was the truth. “No matter how upset, or angry… I wouldn’t. I can’t.”

Dick nodded and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I know that,” he snapped, “but have you ever considered _why?_ I mean, you always tell us that if we kill we’re just as bad the criminals who rape and murder, but… Do you _really_ believe that?”

He used to. Once upon a time, but now that Dick had blood on his hands, Bruce wasn’t so sure. It was getting between him and his work as Batman. His moral code couldn’t waver. It couldn’t falter. If it did, who would be the hero that Gotham needed?

“Yes, I do.” He lied because it was easier but the look on Dick’s face made him regret it. It was devastating and Bruce felt his own eyes sting.

“Okay,” Dick said, sounding as defeated and exhausted as Bruce felt. “Then I guess I’ll stay out of your way. Tell Jason he can call me anytime.”

This wasn’t the outcome Bruce wanted, but he didn’t have it in him to stop Dick either way.

 

“I have no idea what to do about this situation, Alfred,” Bruce said over dinner. It wasn’t often that he could get his oldest friend to sit down and eat with him, but he must have looked downright dejected after Dick left because Alfred agreed without complaint. “Both my sons hate me right now. I don’t… I don’t know where to even go from here.”

Alfred looked pensive, but it was that kind of look that told Bruce he was gearing up to say something that he’d wanted to for a very long time. “Master Bruce… have you considered going to therapy?”

He had. Twice. It was Diana’s suggestion, really, but Bruce didn’t know if he could trust someone with his darkest secrets. Besides, even if he did, wouldn’t he be responsible for that person’s safety if it ever got out that they were the therapist to _the_ Batman? Bruce didn’t know if he could live with that.

“I don’t think that will help,” he said, trying to be diplomatic even though he knew he sounded like the same brat Alfred had taken care of for far too long.

Alfed hummed. “If I may disagree?”

Bruce sighed and nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”

“I do not wish to upset you with this, but you must understand that I have known you a very long time, sir. I have seen your upset and rage when it comes to the loss of your parents. I have witnessed you become a parent in your own right, and in more ways than one, I have watched you blossom into the successful young man you are today. _However_ , your lack of care for your own mental health has hindered you one too many times in my opinion. I cannot control what you do or who you choose to talk to, but I _do_ believe that talking to _someone_ would help you immensely.”

“I’m not crazy, Alfred.” That was just about the only defense he could come up with and he knew it was foolish. People didn’t go to therapy because they were crazy, they went because it helped to talk to someone who could help you whether your problems were depression, anxiety, PTSD, or just simple loneliness. Maybe he did need therapy. Maybe they all did.

Alfred just gave him a look that said he was done trying to talk any sense into him, but Bruce had already made up his mind, anyway. He didn’t _want_ to go to therapy, but as he’d told Jason and Dick all throughout childhood--there were just some things you _had_ to do regardless of whether you wanted to do them or not.

 

\--

 

Jason couldn’t even remember the last time Dick came over.

Dr. Leslie Thompkins had come over and given him his wheelchair, a motorized one since his right arm was still all fucked up, and Dick hadn’t been there for it. He hadn’t been there when Dr. Thompkins cut off his casts, either, which probably meant it had been around a month or so. Being bedridden had made Jason awful at keeping keeping track of the time, and honestly it’s better that way because all he could think about is how much school he’d probably missed.

He had memorized the curriculum long before going to find Sheila and he knows what books he has to read for english and what chapters to brush up on for science and math. Bruce was pretty adamant about him taking this semester off and it’s killing him. Just another reason for him to be mad.

First, Bruce wouldn’t tell him what happened to the Joker (“He’s gone, Jason. Stop asking”), then he wouldn’t let him call his own mother (“She’s hardly your mother. She gave you up and then sold you out to a madman who tried to kill you both. You’re not talking to her”), then he’d said no to homeschooling (“You’re too weak right now to be straining yourself like that”), and now he’d chased Dick off (“We’re just… taking some time apart.”)

Yeah, Jason definitely hated Bruce Wayne right about now, but he _was_ happy to be out of his casts and (kind of) walking around. Dr. Thompkin’s said he needed physical therapy to repair the strength in his entire body and not just the limbs that had been broken. He had slight muscular atrophy from being in bed and in a wheelchair for so long, but at least it was only a temporary situation unlike poor Babs.

He hadn’t seen her in awhile, either. She came around more often than Dick did, but it still wasn’t often-often. Jason hated to admit it, but he was kind of lonely.

 

Before Jason knew it, it was summer break.

The reality of that didn’t really hit him until Alfred was asking him what he wanted to do for his birthday in the next month or so. Was it really summer already? Jason wouldn’t know considering Bruce wouldn’t let him out of the goddamn house. Things were getting better, though. Slowly. Everyone was still fighting, Dick still never came home, but something in Bruce was changing. His adoptive father only ever pretended to be calm and patient. He had a good handle on his own self-control, but it was almost like Bruce was _actually_ becoming a more patient person now.

Jason didn’t know what to make of it, but Bruce no longer left the room when Jason had a melt down (although those were becoming sparse, thank you very much.) His father would just sit as Jason yelled at him, taking the brunt of it all and then responding so calmly that Jason thought he’d been taken over by aliens.

In the first couple of months since returning from Ethiopia, Jason wouldn’t have considered Bruce super present in his life, but that was changing now. Every morning Bruce helped Jason with his physiotherapy and he didn’t even blink when Jason told him to fuck off and stop babying him. That shit took guts. Jason kind of hated that his anger seemed to slip through his fingers with each passing day. His anger was pretty much all he had.

 

Unsurprisingly, Jason’s sixteenth birthday was pretty uneventful. Alfred made cake. Babs came over with a few gifts and left him with a kiss on the forehead that he had to bend down to get. Bruce had been working, but he cut most of his meetings at Wayne Enterprises short so he could come home and celebrate. Even some of Jason’s old school friends had come over but Bruce hadn’t let them stay in the house for long, just like the goddamn over protective mother hen on speed that he’d naturally become.

“Hey Bruce, have you ever heard of being a helicopter parent? ‘Cause that’s what you are,” Jason said, but he hadn’t put up more of a fight than that, only because he didn’t really want to see his friends, anyway. They were nice but exhausting.

Bruce seemed to know that was the case, so he’d only responded with a ghost of a smile. “Would you like your present from Alfred and I now?”

Jason shrugged half-heartedly. “Sure.”

Bruce pulled out a neatly wrapped red box, no doubt the work of Alfred, and handed it over to Jason. “Happy birthday, Jaybird.”

He ripped into the paper without thinking twice about it and stared down at the iPhone 6S in his lap. “Seriously? Are these even out yet? I thought the keynote was in September?”

Jason had been begging Bruce for a new phone for years, but the old man just kept claiming he didn’t want Jason getting distracted. The phone Jason had now was old, practically analogue, and just goddamn fuckin’ awful. He didn’t use it for anything other than calling because even texting on it was too much work. Plus, the trip to Ethiopia had practically fried it. Somehow it survived the Joker’s attack, but it may as well not have survived at all. The last time he tried calling Dick all he got was static.

“Well, I am rich and I did say when you were sixteen you could have the latest and greatest phone.”

Jason squinted at Bruce. “...Are you trying to buy my love back?”

“I don’t know, is it working?”

Jason mulled it over for a moment before smirking. “Maybe.”

Bruce’s lip quirked at that and Alfred simply rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, too.

“Shall I serve the cake now, sirs?”

Bruce looked at Jason, a single eyebrow raised. “What do you say, Jay? You down for some cake?”

Jason wrinkled his nose. “Am I ‘down’ for some cake? God, who are you? Stop trying to be cool, Bruce--and I would love some cake, Alfred.”

“Right away, Master Jason.”

Bruce was a terrible singer and yet he sang Jason happy birthday all the same. He tried his best not to miss Dick in that moment, but it was hard. The standard happy birthday song was always nice, but Dick’s version from Haly’s circus was better. Jason blinked away his tears as he blew out his candles and thanked God, if there really was one, for letting him see another year. There was just no point to being upset on his birthday.


	3. year -2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last part of year -3, the entirety of year -2, a glimpse into Jason's school life, some really important family talking, therapy, and of course, an argument between brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOO, I know I said I probably wouldn't be updating super quickly buuuut this fic is just coming to me at rapid speeds, so lol here's chapter 3!!
> 
> Also this chapter is over 9k so there's that lmao I'd love it if you left a comment and told me what your favourite part of the chapter was (: Thanks for reading guys!
> 
> Warning: talks of violence and torture

The last stretch of 2015 wasn’t anything to write home about for Jason. The only good thing that’d really happened to him was Dick’s eventual return home and Bruce deciding that he was healthy enough to go back to school. Gotham Academy definitely wasn’t Jason’s favourite place to be with it’s god awful uniform, snotty rich kids, and their too-involved WASP-y parents, but it was certainly better than being cooped up in the house all day. Plus, the public school curriculum didn’t compare to Gotham Academy’s—he’d checked. If it weren’t for his determination to get into a good school, Jason probably would’ve just told Bruce to enrol him somewhere else. But at least he had friends here and the staff was nice, too.

September through November had been a trying time, for sure. A whole bunch of his peers had considered Ethiopia their business. They demanded answers and when he wouldn’t divulge them, they decided to make up stories. Jason was pretty good at ignoring the rich piranha's by now, six-slash-seven-years of living with Bruce Wayne had taught him pretty fucking well. At first it hadn’t been easy, but Dick had been right when he said that things got better over time. 

Plus, it never got old to realize that he actually had adults in his corner. The student counselor, Mrs. Greene had been pretty adamant about ensuring Gotham Academy could be a safe space for Jason.

“If anyone bothers you about your accident, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll step in on your behalf if you’re  _ ever _ uncomfortable,” she’d said. Her soft brown eyes were so warm and inviting that Jason didn’t really have much of a choice but to believe her. 

Jason didn’t care what the other students had to say about him, though. They could make up as many stories as they wanted, it didn’t matter. There were only a handful of people who knew the truth, anyway. Bruce had made up some whacky story for the press. He’d paid a lot of money to keep the Joker and Sheila’s names out of it, too. Jason still had no clue what really happened with the clown, but thanks to his new phone, he’d quickly learned that the Joker was  _ dead dead dead _ . Bruce was still refusing to talk about it, which meant that either  _ he _ had killed the Joker or Dick had. And considering Dick still hadn’t made it home by Thanksgiving, Jason was pretty damn certain that it was his big brother who’d crossed the line.

They texted now, at least. Dick was as chipper over text as he was in real life, his overbearing optimism practically shone through the phone with his overuse of emojis and exclamation points.

_ So, little wing!! U dating anyone yet????? U know I had like 3 girlfriends by the time I was your age, right???  _ The obnoxious message was accentuated with a variety of emojis designed to embarrass and Jason was fucking glad that Dick couldn’t see the flush on his face.

_ Shut up, Dickiebird! We can’t all be sluts like you. _

_ So cold, Jay. So cold... _

There  _ was _ one girl in particular who’d made it her life’s mission to weasel her way into his heart. Jason supposed that Rachel Owen was pretty, but mostly in a basic white girl kind of way. She owned  _ a lot _ of headbands (he’d never seen her in the same one twice) and she had a group of followers who trailed behind her like lost puppy dogs. A new friend of his, Jonas Almanzar, compared her to Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl, but Jason didn’t know who that was until he’d googled her. Rachel wasn’t half as pretty as the actress but it was pretty damn clear that Blair had inspired her entire life.

“Wait, you’ve never seen Gossip Girl?! Jason, it’s a rich kid cult classic!”

“Well, you may not know this about me, Jojo, but I’m not a fuckin’ rich kid.”

“Your dad is Bruce-fucking-Wayne!”

And yeah, that was kind of true but that didn’t make Jason a  _ rich kid _ . He was just a poor kid from Gotham’s east side born to (what Bruce described as) a “horrible, vile, disgusting woman,” and his shitty ass wannabe gangster dad. Ironically, the only people who’d loved Jason at all were the ones with no blood relation. So, yeah, maybe Bruce Wayne  _ was _ Jason’s dad now, but that didn’t make  _ Jason _ a rich kid. Bruce was rich, not him.

“You know girls aren’t like, my  _ thing _ ,” Jojo said with a dramatic grimace as if he were imagining getting down and dirty with one. “But  _ Rachel Owen _ likes you, dude! The least you could do is ask her out.”

Jason didn’t  _ want _ to ask Rachel out; he didn’t  _ like _ Rachel. In fact, he didn’t like anyone. Dick would probably be so disappointed to hear him say that.  _ Oh well. _

Luckily, Rachel Owen eventually lost interest by the time Christmas break rolled around, anyway. Jason had been too busy with term papers and final projects to give any of her romantic advancements any real consideration. During their final first semester lunch break, some beefcake Jason couldn’t remember the name of, got down on one knee and garishly professed his love for Rachel with a two dozen roses and some nerds from band club playing instruments behind him. Jojo had a conspiracy theory that Rachel set the whole thing up to make Jason jealous, but Jason really didn’t care either way.

Christmas break was pretty nice, though. As much as he loved school, this year was fucking stressful thus far. Jason hadn’t wanted to get any further behind than he already was, so Bruce had talked the administration into overloading his schedule a little. Gotham Academy only let you take four classes per semester, but Jason had added on an extra two to both semesters to make up for last spring. It was a little bit harder than Jason thought it might be, but it was doable, especially considering that he wasn’t acting as Robin anymore. 

Technically, he’d been benched before running away to Ethiopia to find Sheila, and getting kidnapped by the Joker and almost killed hadn’t changed Bruce’s mind at all. Bruce kept lecturing him about  _ safety _ and how he would be  _ broken _ if anything like that ever happened to Jason again. Blah, blah, blah. The only reason Jason hadn’t argued against it was because he figured by next summer he’d be back to his role out on the streets and school was more important right now, anyway. If he wanted to get into Princeton he had to prove he was good enough and if that meant Robin had to take a back seat for a little while then so be it.

Bruce had been really happy when Jason didn’t put up a fight about it, but if he thought that was the end of the discussion, he had another thing coming. For now, they were on okay-slash-good terms. It would be nice if Bruce and Dick could be on good terms, too. Jason would even settle for them being on okay-ish terms.

_ Hey, are you coming home for Christmas or not? _ He and Bruce were currently sitting for dinner. Alfred had a strict no electronics at the dinner table policy, but he wasn’t in here yet so Jason was taking his chances.

His phone vibrated in his hand once as Dick replied.  _ No I don’t think I should :( _

Jason stared at the message for all of a second before he rapidly started texting back.  _ Wtf?! It’s Christmas, you dick! You already missed my birthday and Thanksgiving. You wouldn’t even let me come to Bludhaven for your 21st birthday! What kind of brother are you???? _

Three dots popped up at the bottom of the screen to let Jason know that Dick was writing back, but Alfred plucked the phone right out of his grasp before he could read what his brother had to say.

“No more of that, Master Jason,” Alfred lectured, quickly putting the phone to sleep. “You know the rules.”

“But Bruce is on his phone!” Jason said, indignantly, gesturing to his father across the table. Bruce’s glasses were half-way off his nose as he stared down at the ginormous screen of his Samsung.

“Not for much longer, I assure you,” Alfred said stiffly before rounding a corner and taking Bruce’s phone from him as well. “Dinner is now served. Do enjoy.”

Bruce sighed, shaking his head a little as Alfred left them to eat pork roast, sauteed veggies, a salad with cranberries in it, and mashed potatoes. It looked good, but Jason wasn’t very hungry. In the past he’d scarf down whatever food Alfred put down in front of him, and he still had that innate drive that told him not to waste any food. He wasn’t hungry, but he’d eat what was in front of him regardless.

“So, Jaylad. Are you happy to be out of school for a while?”

Jason nodded, swallowing a bite of his salad. “Yeah, a break is nice, but I think I’m going to use this time to read ahead a little. I don’t regret overloading my schedule at all, but it’s helpful to be on top of shit before it piles up.”

“Watch your language,” Bruce chided half-heartedly. “You deserve a break, though, Jay. Don’t stress yourself out on Christmas.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “It’s not Christmas yet, Bruce. Besides, I have nothing else to do. It’s not like Dick is here to drag us on our annual Christmas tree picking event or to force me to go with him to the mall to go gift shopping and pick a new ornament or whatever.” He shrugged dejectedly but he tried to keep the sadness out of his voice. Jason wasn’t as good at the whole compartmentalizing thing as Bruce was, but he didn’t want to guilt trip his father right now. That wasn’t the point of this conversation. “May as well be productive.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

Bruce pushed the food around on his plate. “Have you been talking to Dick often?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, pursing his lips. “We text all the time now.”

Bruce nodded. “That’s good.” He took a sip of his dark, red wine. Jason could smell it from here, it was a strong one. Bruce only asked for the strong bottles when he’d had a particularly hard day.

“Are  _ you _ good, B?”

“Hm? Oh, of course, Jay. I’m fine.”

“You’re drinking, though, and that usually means you’re  _ not _ fine.”

Bruce gave him a ghost of a smile, his eyes crinkled up at the corners in a way that said,  _ I trained you well. _ “Guilty as charged, I suppose. I’m just… Sad over your brother is all.”

Jason furrowed his brow. He wasn’t used to Bruce giving up information so easily, but hey, life was a hell of a lot easier this way. “So why don’t you tell him to come home then? It’s an easy fix.”

Bruce shook his head. “It’s not. It’s more complicated than you know.”

“You do know I’ve already put two-and-two together, right?” Jason asked, staring at him from across the table. “Like, I  _ know _ that Dick killed the Joker in that warehouse and you’re punishing him for it or whatever.”

Bruce stared back at him for a couple of beats before he huffed out a laugh almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He shook his head and rubbed at his brow. “Did Dick tell you that? That I’m  _ punishing _ him?”

“He didn’t have to,” Jason snapped. Sometimes the old heat from the spring made an appearance every now and then. He was probably never going to outrun his temper. “I’m not stupid, you know. I have eyes and you trained me to be a  _ detective _ .”

“No, you are most certainly not stupid,” Bruce agreed. “You’re the smartest kid I know, Jaylad.”

Somehow Bruce had gotten  _ really _ good at defusing explosive situations. Like,  _ really good.  _ Before, he used to blow up just as bad as Jason. Snap back, play the father card. But now he was all zen and like, “ _ It’s okay if you yell at me, Jason. I’m your father, I can take it. You don’t owe me anything _ .” It was ridiculous! Jason had half a mind to call Zatanna up and ask what kind of voodoo she was using on his dad, but Alfred said Bruce had just been engaging in better mental health practices. Whatever that meant. Jason could not imagine Bruce doing yoga in his study.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, old man.” He frowned, unsure of whether or not he really wanted to commit to this conversation, but he decided to take the plunge. “Just so you know, I’ve been  _ really nice _ by not pushing this stupid issue, okay? I didn’t say anything on my birthday or halloween or thanksgiving or even Dick’s birthday, but you can’t honestly just expect me to just sit here in silence while Dick spends Christmas alone in fucking  _ Bludhaven. _ ” He didn’t hate Gotham’s violent sister-city as much as Bruce did, but that didn’t mean he liked it either. “He’s  _ family _ and family always comes first in this house… Isn’t that what you told me?”

Bruce looked exhausted when he grabbed his glass for another sip of wine. “Jason, I highly doubt Kory will let Dick spend the holidays alone.”

Jason rolled his eyes. God, Bruce could be so patronizing. “Sure, maybe  _ befor _ e they broke up she wouldn’t have. I mean, she’d probably still wanna hang out with him now ‘cause she’s weird like that. All like,” he put on his best Kory voice, “ _ ex-lovers can be such kind and wondrous friends _ ,” he cleared his throat to get rid of the soprano, “but we both know how Dick gets after a breakup. He’s pathetic, and you totally ignored everything else I said!”

“When, exactly, did Dick and Kory break up?” Bruce asked, he’d put his glass down before it’d even touched his lips.

“I dunno the exact date, B. It was like last month or something...? It’s definitely fresh. Don’t you follow him on Twitter? He’s been posting a lot of sad Drake lyrics… like,  _ a lot _ . Jojo keeps fucking ribbing on me about it as if I can control what Dick posts on social media… I really think he’d be better off at home, with us. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so goddamn sad.”

“Hn. I’ll have to call him then… and watch your language, Jay. That’s four dollars for the swear jar in the span of ten minutes.”

Jason waved off the swear jar thing with the flick of his wrist. “Wait, have you seriously not talked to Dick  _ at all _ since kicking him out?”

His father flushed a little, or his face did something as close to flushing as possible for Bruce. “I did not kick your brother out. He left on his own accord.”

“So not the point here, B.”

Bruce sighed. “No. I haven’t spoken to him. I…” He sighed, shaking his head a little. “Actually, Jaylad, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to discuss with  _ you _ .”

“Uh, okay?” He didn’t like it when Bruce said they needed to  _ discuss _ things. And he didn’t like it when Bruce just upped and changed the topic of conversation, either. “What did I do now?”

“Nothing,” Bruce said firmly. “You didn’t do anything. You’ve been  _ so good _ , Jay. I know I’m not the best at communicating that but you’ve really made me proud after the accident and with school. I know you’ve been angry with me about Sheila and I’m not sure if you’ve just gotten over it or maybe you’re trying to focus on more positive things but either way, I’ve never been more proud of you than I am right now.”

Jason looked down a little to hide the smile fighting it’s way to his lips. Fuck, he was supposed to be mad at Bruce right now, not lapping up his praise like a thirsty dog. And he  _ was _ still kind of mad about the Sheila thing, honestly, but it was clear that Bruce wasn’t about to let up on the Birth Mother Ban. There was genuinely nothing Jason could do about it, anyways. In the state of New Jersey minors couldn’t visit inmates without the presence of a legal guardian or parent and if Bruce wasn’t going, Jason couldn’t go. He’d already tried once and been rejected. Just two more years and he could go see his mother by himself.

“What I wanted to say was… Well, I’m not sure if Alfred told you this already, but I’ve actually been seeing a therapist since May.”

Jason snapped his head up then, just to stare at Bruce with wide eyes. “ _ You?”  _ He asked incredulously. “ _ You’ve _ been seeing a therapist?” That certainly explained the whole zen attitude and new approach to life. Jason couldn’t really imagine Bruce sitting on a couch talking to a shrink anymore than he could imagine Bruce doing yoga in his study.

“I have. It was… suggested to me by multiple people in my life. I figured if others could see my pain then I wasn’t doing as good of a job at compartmentalizing as I thought. Turns out compartmentalizing isn’t entirely healthy, either. It’s just another way to avoid dealing with your problems.”

Jason took a big bite of his mashed potatoes, just to keep himself quiet. He didn’t know what he would even say to all this, but he didn’t want to fuck up and hurt Bruce’s feelings in any way. Catherine had seen a therapist, too. The first time she’d gotten clean, her therapist had been a really big part of keeping her on track. But then Mom thought she was cured after a year and a half and stopped keeping up with her sessions. The loss of guidance had led her right back into drugs and ultimately led to her demise. It was weird how he’d forgotten about all that until now.

Bruce cleared his throat and continued. “My therapist is actually, uh… Well, she’s a,” he paused as if what he was going to say next pained him, “she’s a meta. Her powers have nothing to do with her career, but she’s… trustworthy because she’s guarding a secret about herself, too. It’s made it easier to confide in her about things knowing she can protect herself if the truth about my secret identity ever gets out.”

“Huh,” Jason said, dumbfounded. Bruce didn’t  _ hate _ meta’s, no matter how often he tried to make it seem that way, he just didn’t trust them when it came to the night life. He supposed there would be nothing wrong with having a positive relationship with one in the day time. “She nice?”

Bruce chuckled at the question. “Very. But she doesn’t put up with my shit either.”

Jason laughed. “Now who has to put a dollar in the swear jar, huh?” He sobered quickly. “But I’m glad you’re getting help, B. That’s really good.”

“Thanks, son. But, it’s not just about me.” Jason stared at him with a mouth full of roast. Hopefully this wasn’t going where he thought it was going. “I’d like you and Dick to join me for a session sometime in the new year.”

“Wha—” Jason choked a little on the word and his roast, swallowing a hunk of meat before he was ready. He reached for his water and took large gulps, wincing as the sharp pain moved from his throat to his chest before finally dissipating. “What? Like family therapy or something?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, he seemed slightly amused by this whole thing. “Yes, exactly like family therapy. Are you okay, Jay? That looked like it hurt.”

“I’m fine!” His chest still hurt a little, but he was ignoring it for now. “I don’t want to go to family therapy, Bruce! That’s for weirdo rich kids whose parents are addicted to vicodin and tried to sell their kids for more pills!”

Bruce’s eyebrows raised higher, up into his hairline. He was trying not to laugh, Jason could tell. “It might also be for adopted kids whose father is a late-night vigilante with post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, and a possible hero-complex.” He wound up saying it so calmly that Jason  _ really  _ thought the man in front of him was J’onn in disguise.

“...Were you actually diagnosed with a hero-complex? Because I’ve been telling Dick you’ve had one for  _ years. _ ”

Bruce shrugged. “Dr. Jones and I are in the middle of figuring that out. The first session between the three of us would just be a trial run, I promise. If you hate it, you don’t have to go back. Just… think about it, please? For me?”

And there he went with the fucking guilt trip. Jason worried the inside of his cheek, pushing his food around on his plate. Alfred would be disappointed if he didn’t finish the rest of it, but maybe they could wrap it up for lunch tomorrow or something.

“I’ll only go if Dick goes,” Jason said before quickly tacking on, “and you have to ask him yourself ‘cause I’m not your little messenger boy, okay?”

Bruce smiled, a real true smile. “Okay. Thank you, Jason.”

Jason tried his best not to sulk. He was sixteen now, and sixteen-year-olds didn’t pout. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

 

After dinner, Bruce decided to call Dick and he made Jason sit in the room with him while he did it, which meant he was nervous. The call hadn’t gone horribly. Bruce was quiet and rueful and probably the most genuine Jason had ever seen him. It hadn’t been a very long conversation, maybe ten minutes max, but it had been a successful one. When Bruce hung up, he was smiling.

“Dick’s coming home for Christmas.”

Jason’s heart did a little dance.

Having his brother home for the holidays was  _ really _ nice. Bruce and Dick didn’t talk much. There was  _ a lot _ of anger behind Dick’s eyes whenever he looked at Bruce, but Bruce was… well, a new man, honestly. He was lighter, calling after a sulky Dick with smiles and stupid dad-like jokes that Jason refused to let himself remember.

“Who the hell is that downstairs and what have they done with Bruce?” Dick asked one night after patrol. He collapsed onto Jason’s bed, making Jason bounce a little. Jason glared at him from over his science textbook before he went back to highlighting an important passage. “He was actually happy on patrol, Jay.  _ Happy _ .”

“That’s New Bruce,” Jason said easily. “He’s going to therapy now and just yesterday I caught him drinking green juice.”

“Green juice? Blech. I mean he told me about the therapy thing, but I still can’t believe it. A couple of sessions and he’s suddenly like twenty-five again? ‘Cause that’s how he’s acting, you know? Like twenty-five-year-old Bruce. You didn’t know that Bruce. He was weird. Nice, but weird.”

Jason flipped to the next page in his textbook and read the last passage about environmental conservatism. Good, he was already two chapters ahead for next semester now. “Well, I like him, I guess. He’s super chill. I get away with  _ so _ much now.”

Dick snorted. “You got away with everything before.”

“That’s not true,” Jason argued, closing the textbook and putting it on his desk. “You’re the golden child, not me. You killed the fucking Joker and he’s let you back into the house. He didn’t even kick you out or anything, you  _ chose _ to leave. You broke  _ The Rule _ and yet here you stand in one piece! Come on, how is that  _ not _ favouritism?”

His brother laughed, a real true belly laugh but it felt like Dick was laughing  _ at _ him.

“What?” Jason asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Don’t be a dick,  _ Dick _ .”

“I’m not!” Dick said, still chuckling a little. “It’s just… I think we have both convinced ourselves that the other is Bruce’s favourite. I had a dream recently that you severed a bunch of crime lords heads and kept them in a duffel bag to prove a point and Bruce  _ still _ tried everything in his power to bring you home to us.”

Jason wrinkled up his nose. “You have weird ass dreams, Dickiebird.”

“I might’ve been high.”

Jason snorted, loud and clear. “On  _ what? _ ”

Dick coughed. “I mean… The Titans  _ may _ participate in a little recreational fun here and there.”

“Oh, really?  _ Recreational fun,  _ huh? Dick, as your little brother I shouldn’t have to say this to you but: don’t do drugs, man. Drugs are bad for you.”

Dick’s face softened in that way that screamed,  _ I forgot my little brother was raised by a drug addict and I am an awful person and I should die right now _ . “I’m sorry, little wing. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The funny thing was, Jason wasn’t upset. Not even a little bit. People did drugs, that was just life. He had no plan on ever touching them, but he wasn’t about to dictate other people’s lives. 

“I’m not upset. I just don’t want Bruce to kick you out for real this time when he finds out you’ve smoked weed and told your little brother all about it. And I know it was weed ‘cause you’re way too big of a baby to try anything hard.”

“Eh, Bruce wouldn’t kick me out over that. He’s been known to dabble in a little recreational fun here and there, too.”

“No way,” Jason said, unable to help the grin coming to life on his face. “How do you know that?”

Dick shrugged, wearing a grin of his own. “I caught him and Selina high as a damn kite in his room once. A pack of edible brownies between ‘em. They were tearing through those things like monsters.”

Jason clasped a hand over his mouth to stop from laughing too loud. It was late. Bruce and Dick had just come back from patrol (a step to bridging their broken connection) and Alfred had just gone to sleep. The butler’s room wasn’t really close enough for Jason’s laughter to wake him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Alfred might have been old but his hearing was damn sharp. 

“I wanna see Bruce high!”

“Oh no, baby bird. You  _ do not _ .  _ Real Bruce _ comes out and it’s not pretty.”

“You have to tell me! What’s  _ Real Bruce  _ like?”

Dick laughed and laid back on Jason’s bed, tucking his arms beneath his head. “Well, first of all, he got really, really,  _ reaaaaaallly _ upset that I came in ‘cause apparently he and Selina were about to… you know. But then he called me over to the bed and starts telling me how proud he is of me and whatever, which like… was nice, sure. But then? Oh man, Jay it got  _ so bad  _ after that.”

“Why?” Jason asked, pulling his knees up to his chest as he laughed. He was straight up fixated on this story. “What’d he do?”

“He started recounting his teenage years to me and all the crazy shit he used to do in his youth. Said he was proud of me because even though I could be a little promiscuous, I wasn’t as downright slutty as he used to be. Then Selina asks him to elaborate on that and he goes on to tell this story about how he was fucking two girls at the same time in college and they were best friends.”

Jason gaped at him. “What the fuck?!”

“Right!? Which, like, don’t get me wrong I’ve, like,  _ done that _ but he was way worse than me, okay? Both girls had boyfriends! They were both cheating on two different guys with the  _ same _ guy and they had no idea! And he knew about the whole scenario beforehand because he’s fucking  _ Bruce Wayne _ and he knows everything and just never said anything about it. Ever. When it blew up in their faces? He just said  _ adios! _ ”

“Damn.” Jason leaned back against his headboard to take it all in. “Bruce was a fucking savage.”

Dick snorted and looked up at the ceiling. “I think he still is. He just hides it from you ‘cause you’re his  _ precious widdle baby boi _ .”

Jason kicked Dick’s side. “Shut _ up! _ ”

Dick grunted a little with a wheezy laugh but he didn’t retaliate.

They just sat there for a while in the silence of Jason’s room at three o’clock in the morning on Christmas Eve before Dick said, “Hey, Jay?”

“What?” His eyes were beginning to droop a little.

Dick looked over at him with a soft smile. “I missed you, buddy.”

Jason bit his lip, his heart was threatening to jump up into his throat. He didn’t know if it was because he was tired or if he was just over trying to appear tough but… 

“Missed you too, brother.”

 

Dick wound up sticking around for a whole month after the holidays. Turned out his breakup with Kory affected him more than Jason thought because he’d taken time off work to wallow. He wouldn’t even tell Jason what happened, but sometimes he locked himself away in his room and played  _ The Scientist _ on repeat. Bruce got really tired of Dick drowning in self-pity, so on New Years Eve, he forced Dick and Jason into a sparring match.

“Jason’s getting rusty. I don’t like that.”

It was true, he  _ was _ getting rusty. Bruce and Jason sparred sometimes here and there, but Alfred didn’t let them keep at it for long, so his endurance had turned to complete shit. Seeing Dick at home and in the training room had inspired Jason to get back into shape in general. When Dick went for a run, Jason would hop on the treadmill right after him, and then Dick spotted him for some weight lifting. The endorphins were definitely nice. Jason hadn’t realized how much he missed being Robin until he felt his heart beat at maximum speed after some high-intensity interval training.

A full month of sparring had Jason feeling closer to his old self again, and even Alfred hadn’t stepped in to stop any of the matches. Bruce grumbled something about Alfred trusting Dick with Jason more than he trusted Bruce. That made Dick laugh and it was rare for Dick to laugh around Bruce these days.

Their relationship was still strained. Jason was trying not to be that annoying little brother who meddled but it was kind of hard not to be. Especially not when this fight was all his fault. Had he never gone to Ethiopia, Bruce and Dick would have been just fine. The worst part was that Jason didn’t even really have the time to keep tabs on what his brother and father were doing. He had to choose between homework or snooping and the nerd in him chose his damn homework every time.

“Don’t you worry, Master Jason,” Alfred said to him one morning before school. “Master Bruce and Master Dick will sort things out between them just fine.”

“I’m  _ not _ worried,” Jason lied.

Alfred just gave him a look that said,  _ I see right through you _ , and told him to meet him in the car in five minutes. Jason couldn’t do anything but obey.

 

Before he knew it, January was almost over and they were heading to their first family therapy session. Jason still couldn’t believe this was even happening. He knew they had some problems to work out, but they didn’t need a therapist to help them with that, did they? Well, he kind of knew the answer to that already. In April it would be a year since the incident and if they couldn’t fix things between them on their own, they probably did need the guidance of a professional but that didn’t mean Jason wanted to go. 

He was still angry about his own stuff, too, but the main focus was on Bruce and Dick.

Jason wasn’t proud of it, but he still cried over not being Robin sometimes. It was so, so stupid to be attached to something like that considering he couldn’t count the number of times he skipped patrol to stay in and do his homework or read a book that he’d picked out for personal pleasure. Bruce hadn’t minded when he did those things, he even looked proud, but… Robin gave him  _ magic _ . 

He didn’t voice any of this to Bruce, of course and when he’d tried talking to Dick about it, the asshole just said, “ _ Well, maybe you shouldn’t be Robin anymore. There’s nothing wrong with retiring early, Jaybird. _ ” But that wasn’t what Jason wanted. Bruce had just benched him  _ temporarily _ , not fired him. It wasn’t indefinite. Jason refused to believe that it could be, but with each passing day he got less and less sure that he would ever be Robin again.

And now he was being forced into some whacko family therapy session where they would probably be encouraged to air out all their  _ feelings _ and  _ grievances _ with one another. What a joke.

Jason felt bad for Dr. Jones, already. She was a petite black woman with a curly, black pixie cut and big, hazel eyes. She was pretty and soft-looking, but Bruce said she was capable of handling their shit, so Jason trusted that his father knew what he was talking about.

Currently, all three of the “Waynes” sat opposite to her in her office, their arms crossed in that way that said they were all unwilling to talk. Bruce was being silently stubborn to force the boys into saying something, but the old man had another thing coming if he thought Jason would crack first. It was Dick or bust.

“So,” Dr. Jones said, plastering a tiny smile onto her face. “How are the three of you?”

Jason grunted. Bruce sighed. Dick shrugged.

“Words might be helpful here,” Dr. Jones joked, but Jason could tell she sounded a little exasperated. Poor lady, it hadn’t even been five minutes.

“I’m…” Bruce started, then paused, and sighed again. “I’m okay. I can’t speak for the boys, though.” He looked at Jason and Dick expectantly.

Jason felt his palms sweat. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. He didn’t know what he could and couldn’t say to this lady. His arm, legs and ribs hurt ‘cause it was cold outside and he was pretty sure he had arthritis at sixteen, but he didn’t know whether or not that was something you brought up in family therapy.

“I’m definitely  _ not _ fine,” Dick said, crossing his arms even tighter over his chest if that were possible. Jason knew he’d be the one to crack first. It was too bad he hadn’t made this a bet with someone, he probably would’ve won some big money.

Dr. Jones relaxed, probably happy to have something to work with. “And why is that, Richard?”

“I don’t want to  _ be _ here,” Dick stressed. “Bruce has made his feelings for me quite clear and I don’t understand why he wants to rehash it on the last weekend I have off before returning to work.”

“Bruce, do you have a response to that?”

Bruce most certainly  _ looked _ like he had a response to it, but he was holding his tongue. Jason felt awkward sitting between them when they were fighting like this.

“Bruce?” Dr. Jones implored and Dick scoffed as if he weren’t surprised at Bruce’s silence at all.

“I believe Dick may misunderstand my true feelings for him,” Bruce said, finally.

“Oh?” Dr. Jones perked up at that. “And how do you truly feel about him?”

So far, therapy was just a whole lot of questions. Jason could have probably been a therapist if he had a penchant for putting up with other people’s shit—which he didn’t. Still, if he  _ wanted _ to, he could do it. It didn’t seem hard.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably and Jason glanced at him. He looked like he was going to vomit. Jason grimaced and scooted a little closer to Dick. Last thing anyone needed was Bruce blowing chunks all over them because his therapist asked him a question about his  _ feelings _ . Bruce was getting better at showing how he felt, but he was still allergic to emotion deep down. Dick seemed to relax when Jason came closer, opening himself up to him. Jason unconsciously leaned back against his brother’s arm.

“I, I lo— Bruce cleared his throat and Jason looked up at Dick who seemed almost frozen. “I love him. He’s my son.”

“ _ Whoa. _ ” Jason had never heard Bruce say he loved  _ anything _ or anyone (not even Alfred) and now he was saying he loved Dick and calling him his son—out loud! There was a weird, tiny twinge of jealousy in his heart but Jason ignored it. He looked at Dr. Jones. “You some sort of witch? ‘Cause he never drops the L bomb”

Dr. Jones laughed and shook her head. “No, no witchcraft here. It seems like that was something Bruce has wanted to say for quite some time is all. Right, Bruce?”

Bruce still looked sick but he nodded stiffly. “Right.”

Dick was still silent, though and Dr. Jones wasn’t about to let that slide. “Richard, how does hearing that make you feel?”

Dick swallowed hard enough for Jason to hear it. “Good, I guess?” He sounded confused and squeaky as he looked at Dr. Jones “I mean, definitely good, but I…” Jason tipped his head back to look at him, noticing the way Dick’s blue eyes zoned out before he turned to look at Bruce. “I broke the rule.”

“You did,” Bruce said solemnly. “But I can’t—no—I  _ shouldn’t _ hold it against you. You’re my son and I don’t want to push you away anymore than I already have.”

“Hm. Let’s… redirect a little bit, shall we?” Dr. Jones suggested. “From what I know of the situation, Richard broke one of your strictest moral codes and it put a strain on your relationship. You told me you hope to mend the gap between your family, yes?”

Bruce nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Then, I think, if it’s not too forward maybe we should start with apologies. Bruce, why don’t you go first.”

“Okay.” Bruce looked nervous, but less nervous than he had been earlier. He cleared his throat and pushed his shoulders back when he looked at his eldest. “Dick, I was wrong. When you asked me if I believed that killing the Joker made you the same as him, my  _ real _ answer was no. I wasn’t in a place to admit to my shortcomings back then. I was holding on to values that stem from my own personal trauma and I projected those feelings onto you. I know I say it all the time, that killing is the  _ easy way out _ but… I left you alone, watched you suffer, and did nothing to help as you were plagued with the weight of your actions. I’m sorry for what I said, for how I acted. I’m your father and whether or not we agree, it,” Bruce shook his head. “It doesn’t, it won’t  _ ever _ change how much I love and trust you. I don’t expect forgiveness for my wrong doings. I just want you to know that I don’t look at you any differently than I did a year ago. Besides all that, I never once said thank you.”

“Um, thank you for what?” Dick asked, his voice tight and tiny.

“For saving Jason.”

Jason tensed. He’d only heard them yell about this from a distance where their words got muddled with their anger and they said a lot of hurtful things they didn’t mean. No one really  _ talked _ about what happened to Jason. Everyone just yelled, Jason included.

“I didn’t—”

“You did. Without you I wouldn’t have made it there in time. He would have died, the Joker would have gotten away and that… That would have been a  _ true _ victory for him. I don’t blame you for killing the Joker, Dick. I know I said that I would  _ never _ but… you were right. The rage I felt that night… It could have easily been me in your position. I’m so sorry that I alienated you and made you feel like you were wrong for doing what  _ anyone _ would have done in that moment. You saved your brothers life and...” He sighed. “In a way you saved mine, too.”

Jason didn’t have to look at his brother to know that he was crying. He felt the rapid rise and fall of Dick’s chest, heard the hitch in the back of his throat. Dick shifted, pulling away from Jason to stand up as he mumbled something about not being able to do this right now. He grabbed his coat, excused himself and practically bolted out of the room.

Bruce covered his face with his hands and Jason could only stare at the door his brother ran out of.

Family therapy was fucked up.

\--

Dick had no idea what to do with the fact that Bruce Wayne had just  _ sincerely _ apologized and practically absolved him of all guilt when it came to killing the Joker. Not to mention he’d been thanked for saving Jason’s life—a fact that Dick had thrown in Bruce’s face one too many times, but that was mostly out of anger. He’d never truly believed he deserved credit for Jason being alive and well. 

It was cold out on the street, but Dick didn’t mind. He wasn’t a smoker but he thought that maybe he could have gone for a cigarette right about now. God, how had they let things get to this point? And how could Dick just run out on his family like that, especially when Jason was scared?

His brother wouldn’t admit to said fear, probably didn’t even recognize that was that he was feeling, but Jason was definitely afraid of Dr. Jones. He was scared of the idea that someone could know all the intimate parts of himself and could draw them out. There was a lot of shit Jason was bottling up. Sheila, Robin, the Joker. He didn’t talk about any of it, but in therapy he might have to, so of course he didn’t want to go. That was the only reason Dick had agreed to what he believed would be a farce.

Dick had known that they would focus on his relationship with Bruce first. It only made sense. Jason wasn’t lashing out anymore and the only antagonistic relationship in the family was Dick and Bruce on a surface level. What Dick hadn’t been prepared for was Bruce saying he loved him, apologizing, and thanking him all at once. It was proof that his father had been working at this with Dr. Jones for just as long as he’d said. It was overwhelming. Dick just needed some space to process it, but it was probably better that he go back in.

“Dick.” It was Bruce. Jason wasn’t with him. “Are you alright?”

Dick nodded and turned away from him, wiping at his wet eyes. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay. Where’s Jay?”

“Dr. Jones is getting him some hot chocolate. Did I upset you?”

“No.” Dick still wasn’t ready to look at him. “No, not at all. I was just a little shocked.”

“Oh. You’re not mad?”

Dick whirled to face him with a warm smile. “Mad? Are you kidding? Bruce, I used to dream about the day when you would treat me like your equal and not like someone to be bossed around and follow your every order. I just want you to see me as me—Dick Grayson, a man with his own beliefs, way of life, and…” he shook his head, unable to find the words but it didn’t matter.

Bruce smiled at him. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Dick shrugged. “Better late than never.”

“There are still… other issues.”

“There’s always going to be other issues with us. We always butt heads. Two leaders duking it out,” he joked. “I know we don’t see eye to eye on everything… and I know there will always be  _ something _ that makes us fight but we still love each other at the end of the day, right?”

Bruce nodded. “Of course.”

Dick beamed at him before wrapping him up in a hug. “Just so you know: I love you, too and,” he pulled back to look him in the eye, “your opinion of me holds more weight than anything else in the world ‘cause… yeah, you’re my dad, B.”

Up close, Dick could see the tears forming behind Bruce’s eyes just before he blinked them away.

 

Dick didn’t quite know how it happened but family therapy became a pretty consistent thing. They had sessions scheduled once every month, and Dick was learning to open up the way Bruce did. Jason on the other hand always stayed quiet and didn’t say much in fear of giving too much about himself away. The first couple of sessions, Dr. Jones had let Jason’s behaviour slide but the anniversary of the warehouse incident was one week away and Jason was the focus. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled.

Dr. Jones sighed. “Why not?”

“Because it was awful and I don’t want to relive it! It’s bad enough that I dream about it almost every night and now everyone wants me to talk about it when I wake up too!”

Bruce went ramrod straight. “You dream about it?”

Dick hadn’t known about that either, but he had his suspicions. Bruce was easily distracted by his cases, patrol, and Wayne Enterprises. Dick wouldn’t suggest that he was an inattentive parent, but when you were at work all day and fighting crime all night, there wasn’t much time for checking in on your son. The only reason Dick had come to suspect that Jason was silently suffering was because his little brother would text him late at night when he should’ve been asleep. Those messages came in at around three and would drop off around four-thirty when Jason inevitably passed back out.

“...Yeah.”

Poor kid.

“What happens in your dreams, Jason?” Dr. Jones asked, her voice soft and inviting. “If you don’t mind sharing.”

Jason was silent for a moment before his shoulders sagged and he opened up. “The Joker’s singing a song… it’s like The Itsy Bitsy Spider but he changes it to something dark and sinister. Makes it about a Robin who won’t ever go home.” He shudders a little and Dick and Bruce move at the same time to wrap their arm around him. Jason flinches but relaxes soon after. “He sings the song as he breaks my ribs and threatens to kill Sheila right in front of me. He taunts me about how Batman won’t come for me. That I’ll die in the warehouse alone and then he breaks my arm. I try to fight back and he breaks my leg. Whenever I wake up I still taste the metal in my mouth and the bones he broke sear in pain like they’ve just been struck with the crowbar again.”

No one knew what to say as Jason cried, but Bruce hugged him close and kissed his head. 

In the next couple days, Jason’s vulnerability turned to embarrassment and he pulled away from Dick and Bruce emotionally. He locked himself away in his room and wouldn’t see anyone but Alfred. There was a change in Bruce after the session, Dick noticed. He ended his patrols earlier, checked in with Jason more and would stay up reading with him. It took awhile for Jason to accept the affection, but the important thing was that he did. 

Dr. Jones didn’t implore Jason to open up unless he showed signs of wanting to. For the rest of their spring sessions, Jason didn’t say much of anything and then spring bled into summer and suddenly Jason had something to say.

“I want to be Robin again.”

Dick hadn’t been the least bit surprised at the declaration and neither had Bruce. What had shocked Dick was the fact that their father was even remotely thinking about letting it happen. There was no way in hell that Jason should’ve been taking up the vigilante lifestyle again. If the past year had proved anything, it was that Jason thrived as a civilian. He was a good student, active and sporty, well-read, charming, and completely non-suspicious. Jason didn’t  _ need _ to be Robin, he  _ liked _ being Robin and that was something completely different.

And Dick told Bruce as much.

“What Jason needs is stability, Bruce,” he said one night before patrol. “Just… let him be Bruce Wayne’s son, not Batman’s partner.”

“Hnn.” Bruce sucked his teeth and Dick could see the wheels spinning in his head. “I’ll consider your point of view.” He pulled the cowl up to covered his face and started on his way to the batmobile without another word.

Dick sighed quietly and followed him. “Guess that’s better than a flat out  _ no _ .”

 

When word got back to Jason that Dick still didn’t think he should be Robin anymore, all hell broke loose. His baby brother was straight up livid, and didn’t help that sixteen had been Jason’s late growth year. He was almost as tall as Bruce now, which meant he had a good two inches on Dick. Dr. Thompkins said Jason probably could make it to six-foot-three but the chances of that were slim thanks to his childhood malnutrition. It was kind of a miracle Jason had even made it to six-foot, and man did Dick miss his little shrimp of a brother—especially  _ now _ .

“I can’t believe you told Bruce to fire me!” Jason drew himself up to his full height so he could tower over Dick. His brother always did have a flair for the dramatic. 

“I never told Bruce to  _ fire _ you, Jay.” Dick said, trying really hard not to roll his eyes. “I told him to  _ consider _ letting you live your life just the way you’ve been doing the past year. I mean, look at you! You’re flourishing!”

Jason hadn’t liked hearing that anymore than he’d liked the false idea of being fired. “I don’t want to be a fucking civilian! I want to help people the way you and B do, the way I was before the Joker and Sheila came and fucked it all up!”

Dick sighed. “Jay, you’re just angry right now but if you really thought about i—”

“I HAVE! I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT NOTHING ELSE FOR A YEAR!  _ YOU _ GAVE ME ROBIN, IT'S MINE. YOU CAN'T HAVE IT BACK.”

“Okay, calm down.” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he been this bad as a teenager, too? He felt a little more sorry for Bruce now. “Seriously, Jay, I don’t want Robin back.”

“Then what the hell is your problem?!”

“You! You’re my problem, Jason! I made you Robin, not Bruce! I gave you the mantle and I’m scared to fucking death that you’re going to die trying to live up to it! I want you to get everything you want out of life, which, when you talk about your goals sounds like it had nothing to do with this supremely messed up double life we live!”

“I can take care of myself, Dick! I’m not a fucking baby!”

Dick laughed, high pitched and slightly hysterical. “Yes, you are! You’re only turning seventeen next month, Jay. Do you even know how young that is?”

Jason frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. A form of protection, Dick knew. They were so similar despite a lack of blood relation. “I’m going to be a senior applying to colleges in a couple of months, I’m not that young.” He was indignant, protective, hurt.

Dick felt bad but Jason didn’t have the same insight he did. “Jay…”

“No,” Jason said, holding up a hand to silence him. “I don’t give a shit what you think anymore, Dick. Robin is  _ mine _ and as long as Dad says it’s okay then I’ll be Robin for as long as I want.”

“I think that’s a mistake,” Dick said honestly. “But it’s your life so…” he shrugged.

They didn’t talk much after that. Dick made sure he was around. Bruce still made them go to therapy but their relationship had turned into a knot so tangled that even Dr. Jones struggled at trying to straighten it all out. Bruce had let Jason be Robin without putting up much of a fight, so all Jason did was take cheap shots and sneer at Dick like he’d won now. That was okay, Dick could handle it. What kind of big brother would he have been if he let Jason’s temper tantrums get the better of him? Jason may not have seen it yet, but retiring as Robin was definitely for the best.

 

\--

 

“So, Bruce, tell me…” Dr. Jones started the moment he sat on her office couch. “How are things at home? The last family session was a little tense to say the least.”

Bruce thought  _ a little tense _ was a severe understatement. Jason and Dick had used the November’s monthly session to get into a screaming match about the Thanksgiving day menu, which was really just a metaphor for control. Jason thought Dick was overbearing and Dick thought Jason was too hasty. Bruce had no idea where or how food came into it considering neither of them weren’t cooking a thing for Thanksgiving, but Bruce had long learned not to get in the middle. 

“The boys are constantly at each other’s throats. We’re working a serious case right now and all they do is bicker. It’s gotten to the point where one of our most trusted allies has refused to communicate with either of them unless strictly necessary.”

“That must stress you out.”

Bruce gave a weary smile. “You could say that, yes.”

“Do you regret making Jason Robin again?”

“No.” The warehouse had really changed Jason for the better. At first, Bruce worried it would have the opposite effect but his son surprised him with his new found emotional maturity more and more each day. “Jason is probably in the healthiest mindset he’s been in for a very long time, feud with Dick notwithstanding. The warehouse incident has made him more cautious and aware of his surroundings. He’s not as violent and headstrong, he knows he’s not infallible anymore. It’s made him a better Robin.”

Dr. Jones smiled. “That’s good. Have you told him this?”

“I have. I’m… practicing open and consistent communication just like we talked about. It’s not easy for me but it’s getting better.”

“I’m glad. Can you believe you’ve been at this for a year and some change already?”

Bruce shook his head. “Time flies.”

“It sure does.” Dr. Jones shifted in her chair, crossing her thin legs at the ankles. “So, how’s Jason liking senior year?”

“He loves it. He submitted his college applications already and we’ve toured some more campuses recently. He’s started to collect a lot of UPenn paraphernalia,” Bruce said with a small smile. “It was always Princeton for him at first but… I think he wants some real independence while still remaining close to home.”

“Didn’t you go to Princeton?”

“Briefly. Spent more time at Yale. Didn’t graduate from either but Jason won’t be like me.”

“You sound very proud of him.”

Bruce nodded. “I am.”

“And how is Dick doing in Bludhaven?”

“He’s good. He still likes it there, god only knows why.”

Dr. Jones smiled. “It’s his home away from home, sounds like.”

“It’s a dump.”

She laughed, which wasn’t necessarily a rare action, but it always surprised Bruce when it happened. “One could say the same about Gotham, don’t you think?”

“Some would certainly say so.”

Dr. Jones grinned. “I hated it here at first, too. I wasn’t used to the gothic atmosphere, but sometimes I escape over to Philly for a break.”

“Hnn. Philadelphia is… not bad,” Bruce reluctantly admitted. “Jason likes it there, as proven by his university choice. I’ve come to see the beauty in it.”

“That’s good. It’s good to appreciate other things, even if they’re different than what we’re used to. Maybe one day you won’t hate Bludhaven so much.”

“I think if that were to happen, Hell would freeze over and Dick would move somewhere I hate even more.”

Dr. Jones laughed again. “He’s rebellious isn’t he?”

“Mm. At face value most people would assume that Jason is the  _ bad one _ , but they misunderstand the family dynamic. Jason is tenacious and stubborn in his own way, but when you look at the facts, his track record proves that he’s a good boy. He went through a phase of ignoring my rules and orders, yes, but in the end Jason listens to me  _ more _ than Dick ever did—or does.”

“I think Dick just likes to push your buttons.”

“You aren’t wrong.”

“That’s the joy of being a father, right?”

Bruce sighed. “I suppose it is. Alfred claims it’s my karma.”

“Alfred seems like a wise man,” joked Dr. Jones. She checked the time on her watch with a small sigh and gave him an apologetic smile. “Well, unfortunately I must cut our session short this week. I’ve a flight to catch heading to North Carolina at four o’clock, but I’ll be back in time for our session next week. Your homework assignment is to go home and enjoy your holiday, Bruce. Tell your kids you love them, maybe help Alfred bake a pie like you did when you were younger. Just enjoy your time and be present in the moment. Maybe bring me some leftovers and a couple of photos as proof,” she joked, smiling at him with all teeth and a playful wink.

“I will,” Bruce said to all of it. Nothing she’d said sounded unreasonable to him. “Alfred will no doubt want to thank you with a personal feast for all you’ve done for this family thus far.” He stood, grabbed his coat and folded it neatly over his arm. “It was a pleasure as always, Dr. Jones. Enjoy your holiday and have a safe flight. I’ll see you next week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Jason might be just a LITTLE BIT jealous of Barbara and Bruce's new daughter and Tim Drake is a goddamn stalker.


	4. Year -1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason graduates high school, finally apologizes to Dick, bonds with his sister, goes to Ivy League, and meets his stalker. Not all in that order though (;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this chapter is a little out of whack. I wrote it on my phone bc my wifi is out and I’m also in a weird headspace right now due to some family issues but I’m okay!! This might have more errors/typos than the other chapters since editing on my phone is tedious and annoying. Sorry about that!!
> 
> Also, please note that this story is following my own little hodgepodge of canon. I just pick and choose what I like and change stuff that I don’t. I’ve tagged it AU- Canon Divergence for a reason but I figured a quick reminder wouldn’t hurt. It’s why age gaps between characters have been widened, story details have been changed, etc. If strict canonical details are your thing, you probably won’t find it here since I enjoy creative liberty too much. Also, Tim’s parents aren’t abusive/neglectful because I really hate that about post-crisis. Anyway!! Thanks for reading as always and feel free to leave a comment (:

“B, I’ve got three perps apprehended here. O’s got the GCPD coming, once they arrive I’m calling it a night. Got a big day tomorrow,” Robin said, just loud enough for Tim to hear over the near silent shutter speed of his new camera.

He leaned back to take a look at the photo, smiling to himself. Perfect shot of Robin. He could finally head home, hopefully before anyone found him.

Or at least that was the plan until he accidentally stepped on a big chunk of broken glass. He had seen it before, too, making sure to step over it on his way over here to he get his shots, but his excitement from the new photos made him slip.

“Hold on, B,” Robin said, turning to look over his shoulder sharply. “Who’s there? You know I won’t mind beating another one of you to a pulp.”

Tim gulped, looking past Robin to the criminals he’d knocked unconscious and tied up. Could he make a run for it? Probably not. Robin was fast. He fiddled with his camera, shoving it back down into his backpack before stepping out from behind the large alleyway garbage bin.

“H-hi.”

Robin stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed before it softened. “Hey kid, what are you doing out here?”

“I, I uh… I just wanted to get a glimpse of Robin,” Tim admitted, feeling a little shy. God, how did he let himself get caught?

“It’s dangerous out here. Let me take you home, where do you live?”

“Bristol…”

Robin frowned. “You’re pretty far from Bristol.”

 _So are you_ , Tim thought. “...yeah...”

“What’s your name?”

Should he lie? Robin would probably find out, anyway. There was no way he wouldn’t demand to drop Tim right off to his door. And if Robin didn’t find out, Batman probably would. Four years of following Batman and the Boy Wonder in secret was a good run. Tim frowned. He didn’t even know what he wanted this to turn into, anyway. It was just fun to follow them around, but he supposed being found out was inevitable.

“My name is Tim Drake.”

\--

Tim Drake went to Gotham Academy. Jason had noticed him sometimes. The kid rode a skateboard, carried a camera everywhere, and always had something missing from his uniform. Tim was younger than Jason by three years or so. He was a freshman, Jason was a senior. They didn’t run in the same social circles, but ever since noticing him as Robin, Jason felt like he saw the kid every where. And the kid had guts, too. Following Batman and Robin around town. Bruce was paranoid about the idea that Timmy knew more than he was letting on, so Jason was assigned to befriend him and find out what he knew. So far it seemed like Tim either didn’t know much or he was really good at playing dumb. Either way, Jason’s friends loved him for some reason, possibly due to his early teenage rebellion and disinterest in anything blue blood. Jason had to admit that attitude was pretty refreshing, but Tim felt more like a younger brother than a _friend_.

“I’m telling you, B. Tim doesn’t know anything. He’s just some shrimpy kid who likes photography and hates going to school.”

Bruce hadn’t believed that so easily. “Hnn. Has he ever shown you what he takes photos of?”

Jason paused and shrugged. “No? But I’ve never asked.”

“Well, ask.”

So, he did. And Tim got _real_ weird.

“My photos aren’t that good, Jason… Half of the time I don’t even know what I’m doing!” The kid sounded so nervous that Jason thought he was going to have a stroke.

“I promise not to make fun of you?” Jason offered, snatching Tim’s camera off his desk.

They were in his room. After that night as Robin, Jason had quickly realized that Bruce actually had _neighbors_ , but the lots around here were so large that no one could really tell. Tim lived directly beside Bruce, oddly enough.

“Jason, no!”

Jason ignored him, switching the camera on and holding it up high where Tim couldn’t reach. God bless late growth spurts. “Too bad, so sad, Timmy.”

Tim stopped fighting, resigning himself to his computer chair and slumping in defeat. There was a dejected look on his face when Jason glanced at him and he looked back at the camera, lowering it until he could see the photographs properly. The first one that came up was him as Robin from last year, late November, sometime around Dick’s twenty-second birthday, the first and only time they’d met as Robin and Tim. Jason frowned. He hadn’t realized that this camera had been in Tim’s backpack.

He flipped through the other photos, his heart sinking with each one. There was Bruces’ house, the far off entrance to the cave, the Batgang leaving the cave, and what were probably almost fifty individual photos of Batman, Nightwing, and Robin combined.

“Uh… Tim?”

Tim looked up at him, his lips flattened into a white, thin line. “I’m really sorry, Jason.”

Jason’s heart slammed against his rib cage. “Sorry for what?”

Tim looked resigned and then his eyes flared with something—determination? Stubbornness? Jason couldn’t tell. “Jason, it’s okay. I know you’re Robin. I’ve known for years.”

For the first time ever, Jason just _really_ wanted to choke this kid out.

\--

Dick was impressed by Timothy Drake. Was he a little creepy with his stalker tendencies? Sure, but the kid was practically the Great Mouse Detective and who didn’t love that? Well, to be fair he supposed that Jason and Bruce didn’t love it, but Dick certainly did. It wasn’t that he was happy to have a stalker nor was he happy that Tim got himself involved in a ton of dangerous situations just to take photos of them in action, but apparently the kid had been doing it for _four_ years and was only recently caught. No matter what Bruce and Jay said, Dick knew they were just as impressed as he was deep down.

Tim was so adorable, too. He reminded him of Jason before the growth spurt, so tiny and small. Their personalities were absolutely nothing alike. Tim hated school with a passion. He was smart, capable, and brave, but he’d rather be anywhere but in class. Tim was also kind of shy. Not super shy, but more shy than Jason had been at his age for sure. And of course there was also the fact that Tim was a Blue Blooded young man just like Bruce. In fact, maybe Tim was a miniature Bruce. Yeah, that kind of felt right.

“So, Tim, what brings you by?” Dick asked with a warm smile.

“Jason,” Tim said, frowning. “He’s… mad at me. I wanted to talk to him and apologize.”

Dick nodded. “Yeah, he’s mad at me, too. Has been for a few months now, actually.”

Tim’s frown deepened. “But…” Whatever he was going to say died on his tongue and instead he asked, “Why?”

“Mmm, ‘cause I told him I don’t think he should be Robin anymore.”

“But Batman needs a Robin!” Tim argued, looking greatly offended. “And Jason’s so cool…”

Dick fought against every urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, well, he can’t be Robin forever.”

“Why not?” Tim asked, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Batman needs a partner…”

“Doesn’t mean that partner has to be Jason. I mean think about it this way: Jason’s gonna go to college and study English and probably write a ton of crime novels and become a bestselling author who wins a Putlizer! He won’t have time to be Robin.”

“I guess… Do _you_ …” Tim paused and looked a little conflicted before he started up again, “Do _you_ want to be Robin again?”

Dick laughed, a little harsh. “Oh god, Timmy, _no_. I’d rather shoot myself.”

Tim pursed his lips, once again looking offended.

“Look,” Dick said before Tim could say anything. “You _like_ Jason, I get it. You look up to him, right?”

Tim blushed but nodded.

“Right, I thought so. Now, that’s great and all, Tim. Jason’s a great person to look up to—straight A student, empathetic, kind, strong, optimistic.”

“I think optimistic is pushing it a little,” Tim muttered and Dick grinned, hard.

“No,” he shook his head, “it’s not. Jason’s brand of optimism is just a little special is all. But trust me, someone like Jay?” He waved the idea of him being a pessimistic person away. “He might be a little jaded sometimes, maybe a little harsh, but he just loves _life_ and someone who loves life that much can’t be a pessimist.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, almost as if he didn’t believe Dick. God, the kid was so soft looking.

“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Tim was quiet for a little before he spoke up again. “...Do you think he hates me now?”

Dick shook his head. “Nah, Jay doesn’t hate anyone, Tiny Tim. His heart’s too big.”

\--

Barbara knew that Jason was jealous Cass. He kept saying he wasn’t. He said was happy that Cass got out of the League of Shadows, that he was happy that Barbara and Bruce were helping her find a new, healthy way of life, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t jealous. In fact, that jealousy was teetering on the line of hatred.

She knew Jason well enough to know.

When Bruce had first taken him in, Barbara had been one of the only people Jason would let near him. Bruce had been jealous of her, then, pouting like a petulant child or maybe like a father whose child preferred their mother. Barbara wasn’t Jason’s mother, though. If anything she was like an older sister. Jason was more comfortable with women than he was with men, a simple product of his upbringing. Barbara had learned then that despite the way the male population of Gotham seemed to shrivel up in their fear of her (whether during her stint as Batgirl or just her plain ol’ indentity as Barbara Gordon), she still had a certain motherly instinct. Being a tutor and authority figure to Jason had taught her that, but she had never thought to apply it until she met Cass.

Cassandra Cain was, in a lot of ways, Barbara’s daughter. She had been the one to save her, to pass the mantle of Batgirl on, to hold and care for her. Barbara had even named her. Cass was as much Barbara’s as a biological child could’ve been, and for the first time ever, Barbara felt like she truly understood Bruce Wayne.

It was just too bad that Jason couldn’t understand.

Though, Dick couldn’t, either, now that Barbara thought about it.

To say that Dick had reacted oddly to her new ward would be an understatement, but she understood that was because he was secretly in love with her. Her ex-partner thought he was slick, but Barbara knew better. She picked up on the puppy dog stares and the way he wilted when she talked about other men. Barbara shouldn’t have enjoyed it, but she did. And maybe, just maybe, if she were being remotely honest with herself she would admit that she liked Dick, too. It wasn’t _love_ , but it was… something. Something enough for Cass to notice, too. Maybe that was why her kid was a little bit nicer to Dick than she was to Jason.

Jason.

Barbara recentered her thoughts.

Cass was Jason’s age, or maybe a little bit older, though it couldnt have been by more than a couple of months. Cass’ biological mother was one of the three ladies who could’ve been _Jason’s_ mother—Sandra Woosan aka Lady Shiva. Jason had stared right at the girl who could have been his sister in another life. How weird was that? Barbara hadn’t told Cass that yet, she wasn’t sure how the teenager would react. She liked Jason, though her way of showing it was unconventional. Cass greeted him with demands to spar, never holding back until she kicked his ass every time. Bruce had been conflicted at first, unsure of who to cheer for, but every time Cass showed off her moves, there was a spark in Bruce’s eye and that’s when Barbara figured Jason’s dislike for Cass was cemented.

And now he was refusing to come down to the cave whenever Cass was there, so Barbara had taken it upon herself to talk to him because of _course_ Jason and Dick were still fighting. It’d been months and yet the argument about whether Jason should or shouldn’t be Robin persisted. Didn’t help that Jason could hold a grudge like no other, which only made Barbara want to double down in getting him over the hill when it came to Cass. That poor girl would need all the help from family she could get and Jason was the perfect person to help her with language; he just needed to stop being a stubborn little brat first.

Barbara wheeled herself out of the elevator leading up to Manors second floor and made her way to Jason’s room. The door was closed but she could hear him watching something, or maybe playing something? There was the aggressive tapping of video game buttons and she could’ve sworn she heard a fast, techno (?) version of _Fly Me To The Moon_.

She knocked. “Jason?”

There was a pause and then a dramatic, vehement string of swear words. “Not now, Barbie!”

“Pause the game and let me in,” Barbara said in her strictest voice. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Jason groaned and his mattress springs creaked. Suddenly there was a blast of cool air on her face as Jason whipped his door open. He looked downright miserable.

“You know, it’s Spring Break and Bruce wouldn’t let me go to Tijuana with my friends without a chaperone, so I thought, _Guess I’ll just stay home and play some_ _Bayonetta_ but then here comes Barbie to ruin my plans.”

Barbara rolled her eyes and made to wheel into his room, appreciating the way he immediately got out of her way. “Stop being dramatic, Jason. If you’re a good boy who listens this talk won’t be more than five minutes.”

Jason rolled his eyes, closed his door and sat back down on his bed. “Fine. What is it?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man. I am not your father.” Okay, so maybe she did have a penchant for acting a bit more like Jason’s mother than she thought. Jason mumbled an apology and Barbara smiled but it vanished quickly. “I want to talk to you about Cass.”

“ _Barbie!_ ” He whined.

“No,” Barbara said firmly. “You are not squirming out of this conversation like you did the last two times. You’re being very cold to her and I want to know why.”

“I hardly know her!” He argued. “And it’s not like she’s all warm and fuzzy with _me_.”

“She likes you,” Barbara said with an easy shrug.

“How can you tell when she can’t even talk?”

“She talks in other ways. Like her wanting to spar with you? Her kicking your butt? Yeah, that’s her showing she likes you.”

Jason mumbled something that sounded like, “ _Or that she wants to kill me._ ”

Barbara shook her head. “If she wanted to kill you, she already would have done it. She’s not like that. Killing upsets her a lot, possibly even more than it upsets Bruce if you can believe it. Cass is… stubborn. She doesn’t really listen, doesn’t understand things all that easily, either. She requires a lot of emotional support and even more emotional labor and I know that can be hard, I know. I’m not asking you to be anything more than her little brother, okay?”

Jason frowned. “Is Bruce going to adopt her for real or something?”

Barbara shrugged, it was jerky and a little defensive. She didn’t like the idea of Bruce being the one to take over. They had talked about it, multiple times. If anything, Bruce taking Cass in made sense. He looked good on paper and he had experience with wards but… Cass was _hers_.

“I don’t know,” Barbara said truthfully. “I want to be the one to take care of her if I can, but either way she’s apart of this family now. She can tell you don’t like her. It makes her sad, Jay.”

“... It does?”

Barbara nodded. “It does.”

Jason sighed, very dramatically and Barbara almost laughed. “ _Fine!_ ” She knew Jason couldn’t stand the idea of making a mostly innocent woman sad. He was such a little white knight at heart. “I’ll… do something with her that doesn’t require her kicking my butt. She left a lot of bruises last time you know? You girls are always so eager and it makes Bruce complain that Dick and I aren’t up to par. He even complained about it to Dr. Jones yesterday.”

Barbara did laugh then. “Well, haven’t you heard? Girls rule and boys drool.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get our of here, Barbie. I’ll take your kid to Batburger sometime this week.”

Barbara hummed and nodded. Her chest felt warm at Jason calling Cass _her_ kid. _Hers hers hers._ It thrummed through her. “Thank you, Jay.” She turned to wheel out of his room, getting an eyeful of the game he was playing—Bayonetta? The main character looked interesting. Barbara cocked her head. “Hey, this game is in English, right?”

Jason blinked at her. “Uh, yeah?”

She nodded. “Maybe you could teach Cass how to play it. Bond a little over more than just burgers and Jokerized fries?”

Jason shrugged, picking up his controller again. “Sure.”

\--

Jason was good at stitches, Cass thought. Better than Alfred. The way he cleaned up her yesterdays gash on her shoulder and sewed it shut was so clean and pretty looking. What was the word Babs used? _Professional_ . She watched as he tied the final stitch off, cutting the thread and giving her a small smile. A real one. Another word Babs used… _genuine_ . Cass bit her lip and smiled back, kicking her feet but careful not to hit Jason. _Little brother._

She mouthed the words, “thank you” but they didn’t quite come out the way she wanted them to. Jason understood all the same. He was getting better at reading her now. Cass was happy.

He moved back to inspect her shoulder and nodded once. “Good to go.” He held up a thumbs up so she understood better.

Cass grinned and held up a thumb too. “Burger.” She said. It was one of her favourite, most common words. Babs had given her the first one and she had become hooked ever since. “You.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “My treat? That’s rude I’m just a poor high school senior.”

Cass pointed behind her to where Bruce was sitting at the bay computer. “Ask.”

Jason huffed a laugh and shrugged. “Okay. Hey Bruce?”

Bruce turned to look at him, his body was slumped with exhaustion though he tried to hide it. Cass saw nonetheless. “Yes, Jay? What is it?”

“Think you can lend me some money for Cass and I to go to Batburger?” He asked, grinning. Bruce could not say no to that grin, Cass knew.

“I’ll wire you a hundred.”

Jason’s brow furrowed. “That’s kind of a lot, old man.”

Bruce shrugged. “Bring some back for your brother and Babs.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t eat that junk.” He turned back to the computer and continued whatever it was he was doing.

Jason snorted. “That is _not_ true,” he told Cass quietly. “We’ll get him a Baby Bat meal.”

Cass just grinned.

 

On the their way out the door into the February cold, Cass and Jason ran into the one Dick called Tiny Tim and he was very tiny, Cass thought. He looked sad, though. Cass cocked her head at him, wondering what someone so small could have to be sad about.

“Hi, Jason…”

“What do you want, Tim?” Jason asked, voice harsh, eyes narrowed. Angry? No. _Annoyed_.

“I just… you’ve been avoiding me lately. I wanted to talk…”

“Can’t talk now, little sister wants a burger.”

“Big sister,” Cass corrected with a glare. She poked Jason. “Little brother.”

Jason waved her off. “Whatever.”

“Oh… can, can I come?” Tiny Tim asked, his blue eyes big and hopeful.

Cass cocked her head to the side again before looking at Jason. “He come.” She nodded firmly.

Jason rolled his eyes again. He did that a lot. “You don’t even know him, Cass!”

“Sad,” Cass explained, pointing to Tiny Tim. “Spar later?”

“Yeah, I don’t think Tim could handle you in a fight, Cass.”

Tim frowned. “I could try!” Little one was stubborn, just like little brother.

Cass grinned and pointed to him. “New little brother.”

“Hey, are we going or not?” Jason snapped, glaring at the both of them. Tiny Tim shrunk back but Cass held her ground and shrugged.

“Burger,” she confirmed.

Jason jiggled Bruce’s car keys in his hand with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, yeah… _Burger_.”

 

Batburger was as shiny and pretty as Cass remembered it. She sat in a booth with Tiny Tim while Jason got them their meals. He came back balancing two trays and a waitress carried a third. Jason said he would go back for Barbara’s and Dick’s later.

“The French fries aren’t good with they’re cold, I promise you.”

Cass took his word for it.

Tiny Tim seemed happier now. Jason wasn’t talking to him much, but just sitting beside him seemed to improve Tiny Tim’s mood. Cass watched them with a smile until Jason glared at her.

“What?”

Cass tried to think of the word. “Cute. Big brother,” she pointed at Jason, “little brother,” then she pointed at Tiny Tim. “Black hair. Blue eyes. Pretty.”

Jason rolled his eyes so much Cass thought they were sure to roll right out of his head. “Yeah, that’s what you said about Dick and I, too.”

Cass nodded. “Truthful.”

Jason just sighed and smiled at her. She liked when he did that.

She poked Tiny Tim in the side and laughed when he jumped. “Jason’s friend.”

Tiny Tim looked at Jason, a little scared. It was like he didn’t know how to answer. Jason looked away from him but he nodded all the same. Tiny Tim visibly relaxed and he nodded too. “Yeah, I’m Jason’s friend from school. You’re his sister?”

“Big sister. Adopted.” She was proud of herself for remembering that word.

“Cool!”

“It’s really not,” Jason muttered, “but okay.”

“Proud!” Cass said, leaking across the table to ruffle Jason’s hair. “Little brother smart. Ivy League.”

She didn’t quite understand what Ivy League meant but Babs had told her it was fairly important. No. Not the right word. Pres… prestigious? She furrowed her brow and tried to remember. Prestigious sounded right. It meant Jason was very smart, she thought.

“I haven’t even gotten my acceptance letters back yet!” Jason argued, frowning. His shoulders were slumped, his frown was almost a pout. Worried sulking.

“No way, you’re really smart Jason. We all know you got in,” Tiny Tim said with a bright smile. Cass nodded along. “Besides, my parents wish I were more like you… they’re pretty mad I lost my tie.”

“ _Again_?” Jason asked in disbelief. Cass giggled around her burger at his expression.

Tiny Tim shrugged. _Sheepish_.

Cass was proud of herself for remembering so many words. She munched her fries and watched as Jason and Tiny Tim began to talk. The ice on Jason just melted away and Cass hadn’t done anything at all.

 

In the Spring, Cass learned that Tiny Tim was good at video games, but not as good as her. Jason had showed her Bayonetta and she spent a whole week playing it, skipping patrol to watch the pretty cut scenes. Bayonetta was beautiful. Cass loved her, but then the game was over too quick. Jason had shown her more games—Ocarina of Time, Okami, Tekken, and Street Fighter. Cass really liked the fighting games, and more importantly she liked beating Jason at the fighting games. But he got pouty when she won too many times in a row. Tiny Tim wasn’t as big of a sore loser.

The three of them sat in Jason’s room. Tiny Tim and Cass playing video games and Jason laying back and reading a book. Sometimes he sat up to watch them, but he mostly just ignored them. Tiny Tim might not have been as big of a baby as Jason when he lost, but he still whined.

“Aw man!” He cried out just as the ominous voice rang out, _Finish him!_ Cass did her final move and giggled in victory as Tiny Tim’s character fell to the ground. You win! The video game told her and Cass stuck out her tongue happily.

“Your sister totally cheats!” Tiny Tim said, smiling in good fun.

Jason grunted. “Welcome to the family, kid. Cass is better than all the boys at _everything_.”

Cass nodded. “Girls rule. Boys drool.”

Jason laid down his book so she could see him roll his eyes. “I’m gonna kill Barbie.” But Cass knew he was just kidding.

\--

Alfred put the mail on Bruce’s office desk while he was busy doing work and the butler just stood there, waiting in silence until Bruce acknowledged him. Bruce glanced up and gave his old friend a tight smile.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

Alfred raised his brow. “If I may suggest you look through the mail, Master Bruce?”

“I’m kind of busy right now, Al… I’ll…” He trailed off as Alfred continued to stare at him expectantly. He sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite.” He sifted through whatever his family Butler had put down in front of him until he reached four thick envelopes with Jason’s name on them. He sucked in a sharp breath. “College acceptance letters.” Jason had been waiting on these for weeks. His youngest son was a nervous wreck.

“Shall I call Master Jason?”

Bruce nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Sir. I shall return shortly.”

Bruce ran his calloused fingers over the thick packets. Jason had definitely gotten in. No university wasted this much paper on students they didn’t want. He rearranged them so that UPenn was on top and he couldn’t fight the smile on his smile. Jason was going to lose his mind.

“Heya, B, Alfie said you wanted to see … me…” his words slowed down as he noticed the letters in Bruce’s hands. He paused by th door way, suddenly looking very ill. “Are those—”

“College acceptance letters? Yes. Here,” Bruce held them out to him but Jason shook his head.

“No, no. You open it. I can’t do it,” Jason said, starting to pace the small area between his desk and the couch where he let his guests sit.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please, Dad.”

Bruce smiled to himself and looked over at Alfred standing by the door, a cellphone in hand. It looked like his own. Naturally, Alfred would record this special moment without being asked. He grabbed his letter opener and looked over at Jason who was now biting at his fingers.

“Any preference for what to open first?” He didn’t know if Jason wanted to save Penn for last or not.

“Do Penn first so I can curb my expectations.”

“Okay.” Bruce nodded, picking up the thick packet and opening the envelope with a quick tear that almost made Jason gasp. He pulled out the letter and read the first few lines, unable to help the grin on his face. “Congratulations, Mister Todd-Wayne, you have been accept—”

Jason didn’t let him finish reading before he snatched the letter out of his hand, reading it for himself before he broke out into a hysterical, giddy laugh that Bruce hadn’t heard since Jason was twelve. “I got in!!”

Bruce stood to give his son a hug. “Of course you did.”

Jason clung to him and Bruce could feel the hot tears on his neck but he didn’t mind. He stroked Jason’s curls and placed a dry kiss to his head, his own eyes stinging a bit. He had never had this moment with his own father. He hadn’t even had this moment with Dick. Dick hadn’t really wanted to go to college, so getting in wasn’t as emotional as this. Bruce didn’t know if he would ever experience this again, so he was determined to hold onto it forever.

He made eye contact with Alfred, still filming with moisture in his own eyes.

“Congratulations, Jaybird.” Bruce whispered. “You deserve all this and more.”

\--

Jason had been thinking about what Dick said to him last summer for a while now. It was probably stupid, since he had proved that he could be both Robin and a student all at once, but… while being a student at Gotham Academy wasn’t easy, being a high school student wasn’t remotely the same as being a college freshman living on his own in a dorm with people he hardly knew. His peers would probably think he was weird if he came home every weekend, not that he cared, but Jason was itching for some semblance of normalcy and being vigilante wasn’t exactly normal.

He frowned, drumming his fingers against Neil Gaiman’s _American Gods_ . He didn’t read a crap ton of fantasy but Neil Gaiman always made it so good, but he’d read this novel before, anyway. Jason leaned his head back, thinking. Maybe he could be like Dick, pass Robin on to someone else (not that there was anyone else) and become something new, something original, something _his_. He just had no idea what the hell that was and did Philly even need a superhero? Gotham sure did; but he was moving to a totally different city.

Jason grabbed his cellphone from his desk with a groan. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but Dr. Jones had been encouraging him to extend an olive branch for a while now.

“ _It’s not fair to let your brother do all he work,_ ” she said during one family session where Dick hadn’t showed up. He had a flu, he wasn’t blowing anyone off.

Of course Bruce had taken her side. “ _I think you know that this has gotten out of hand. I can’t force you to make up with your brother but it would be nice._ ”

Normally, Jason would have done it for Bruce but his ego had kind of gotten in the way. He sighed and typed out a message. _Hey Dickiebird. You wanna grab a slice of pizza sometime?_ Jason felt more nervous right now then when he’d asked Hayley Pagan out on a date for homecoming. He hadn’t told Dick about it, but it got back around to him somehow. Jason blamed Jojo.

_Wait are u serious??? I’d love to, little bird!!! Why the change of heart???_

Jason sucked his teeth. _I need to talk to you about something Robin related. Away from Bruce for now._

Dick texted back almost immediately. _Okay. Name the time and place and I’ll be there, promise._

 

The Gotham heat was straight up disgusting in July. The humidity made his curls freak out and walking even two blocks had him breaking out in a sweat. Jason might have been born in the summer, but he was not a fan of the summer heat. The traffic in the city was awful, too. Jason felt awful for asking Alfred to drive him to Pizzaiolo, but the butler had downright insisted. Jason was pretty sure Alfred just wanted to make sure Jason was actually going to meet up with Dick just like he promised. Still, Jason had jumped out of the car early, telling Alfred to do a u-turn and head back to Bristol before it got really bad out here. Alfred hadn’t been happy about it, but he agreed nonetheless.

When Jason made it to the gourmet pizza shop, Dick was already tucking into an extra large box of meat lovers. Jason waved at him before taking a seat across. “Hey.” He reaches into the box and grabbed himself a slice before noticing an unopened bottle of water next to Dick’s. “This mine?”

Dick nodded with a happy smile. “Yeah!”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” His brother wiped his greasy hands off on a napkin. “How’ve you been since college acceptance?” Dick asked, still wearing his happy smile. “I watch that video almost every day. Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Jason blushed a little. “It’s cool. No biggie.”

“I’ll be around to move you into your dorm, though. Promise.”

“Thanks,” Jason said, feeling a little awkward. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had cordial conversations before, it was just that there was literally always some underlay of passive aggressiveness to their words. There was none of that here for once. Dr. Jones would be so proud. “So, uh… I wanted to talk to you about the future of Robin.”

Dick nodded. “Right. You said.”

“I just…” it was going to kill him to admit this, but he didn’t have much choice. “I guess I realized that _maybe_ you had a point.”

Dick grinned and Jason wanted to slap him. “Which time?”

“You know which time!” Jason snapped, stuffing his slice of pizza into his mouth.

“No, no, no,” Dick said, shaking his head with his too-wide grin. “I wanna know which time, little wing.”

“Ugh,” Jason said around his slice, ripping off a piece with more heat than he really felt. “The time you said that maybe… I should retire.”

“Oh?” Dick asked, dramatic as all hell. And people liked to say Jason was the dramatic one. He could practically hear the multiple question marks on the send of the word. “Is that right?”

“Hey, buddy, go to hell! I’m only saying this because I’m moving to Philly by late August and I won’t be here to be Robin.”

Dick nodded, unfazed by everything Jason. As usual. “True, true.”

Jason sighed. “I figured… maybe I could pass the mantle on and just be… a civilian for a little bit. But only for a little! I’m coming back!”

“You can’t be a grown man and be _Robin_.” Dick said with a shit eating grin. “That’s just embarrassing, Jay.”

Jason crossed a single arm over his chest and waved his half-eaten slice of pizza around. “Doesn’t have to be _Robin_. I could go the Nightwing route. Call myself something different…”

Dick nodded, no longer teasing. “True. Make your own identity like I did. It’s really freeing, Jay. You got anything in mind?”

Jason sighed, letting all the fight run out of him. “No. Not really.”

“Ah.” Dick shrugged. “Well, that’s okay, little bird. You’ve got all the time in the world and I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He held a hand out to Jason with the most charming smile Jason had ever seen him use. “Truce?”

Jason leaned forward to grab it, clasping Dicks hand with his free one. “Truce.”

 

“I can’t believe this is going to be your last birthday at a high schooler,” Babs said, sounding a little sad and as pouty as she could get. “You’re eighteen now. A man!”

Jason smiled at her. “Yeah, it’s been a good run. I’m just happy to graduate in November. Hey, why _is_ convocation in November, anyway? I’ll already be at Penn by then.”

“You’re coming home for it though, right?” Babs asked, her fiery eyebrows stitched together.

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Don’t freak out.”

She relaxed into her wheelchair. “Good. Now let’s go, everyone’s waiting for you downstairs. Dick’s been practicing singing your song for two days.”

Jason smiled, walking beside her as they made their way to the elevato. “Yeah, he said he was gonna sing an extra one every year for that one birthday he missed.”

Babs’ face softened and she bit her lip. “He’s sweet like that.”

“Uh-oh, you catching feelings there, Barbie?” He teased, laughing when she couldn’t control the flush on her cheeks.

“Oh, shut up, Jason.”

“Hey, you can’t tell me to shut up on my birthday!”

 

After birthday celebrations were over, the most important things Jason could think to do was find Bruce and talk out this whole Robin thing out. Naturally, he found his father in the cave.

“Hey, Dad…” Jason said, sounding nervous even to his own ears.

Bruce turned to face him with the faintest of smiles. “Jay. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to talk to you about something kind of important?”

“Ah.” Bruce turned off the batcomputer monitor so he could give Jason his full attention. “Come to resign as my partner?” He asked, sounding both sad and happy all at once if that was even remotely possible.

“Did Dick tell you?” He tried to squash down the uprising annoyance. This was supposed to be his thing.

Bruce shook his head. “No. I just had a feeling. You’re going off to Philadelphia. There won’t be much time for Batman and Robin.”

Jason looked down at his socked feet, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry, B.”

“Why?”

Jason looked up at him. “I don’t want to…” He sighed and looked down again. “Don’t want to let you down. I know that Robins really important to Batman is all. His good soldier and all that.” An article by Clark Kent had called him that. Jason didn’t like it, but it made Bruce smile.

“Jay.”

Jason didn’t look up.

Bruce moved and tilted his chin to look into his eyes. Jason tried to look away, but he couldn’t. There was sincerity there, and though Dr. Jones had clearly worked miracles on his father, Jason still couldn’t help but marvel every time he saw it. “You know what’s more important than what Robin is to Batman?”

Jason shook his head lightly, a little restricted by Bruce’s grip.

“Jason to Bruce.”

Jason couldn’t help but laugh. It was one of relief, though. “That’s corny, B.”

“Corny but true. I love you, Jason and I’m proud of you.” L bombs were still pretty rare. “I love you so, so much. Having you as a son? One of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“Only one?” Jason joked.

Bruce chuckled and let go of him to wrap him up in a firm hug. “You’re the the best, Jay.”

Jason wrapped his arms around his father, pressing himself as close as he could. They were almost the same height now, but Jason was still thinner. “Don’t let Dick or Cass hear you say that.”

Bruce’s laugh was like a thin wheeze but it made Jason smile all the same.

 

UPenn dorms were nice. _Really_ nice. They were so nice that Jason almost felt guilty that Bruce was shelling out the money for this. Technically his dorm was a regular apartment off campus. He wasn’t stuck in a dingy one bedroom with some other guy sharing a bunk bed or whatever. Bruce had claimed that Jason would’ve hated the traditional experience and he was more than happy to pay for a nice apartment near by. Jason had been happy with that in the moment but now that he was looking at the place, he thought this was a little excessive. Bruce didn’t seem to think so, though.

“This is nice for your first place,” he said with a smile, clasping Jason on the back.

“Yeah, what the hell this is nicer than _my_ place.” Dick complained, flopping down next to Tim on Jason’s onto the brand new couch. He hadn’t even known Bruce bought furniture, too. “Bruce, when are you going to buy me all this nice stuff?”

“Maybe when you move out of that dump. Not buying you good quality furniture just for you to get looted.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Prejudice.”

Cass walked out of the bathroom just then, wiping her hands on her leggings before sitting next to Dick. “Pretty,” she said, looking around.

Bruce looked proud of his accomplishments.

“Shall I make us lunch?” Alfred asked, coming out of the bedroom where he finished organizing Jason’s closet despite all his protests. Everything was already unpacked and Bruce had sent Cass, Babs, and Tim to go grocery shopping on Alfred’s behalf . Everything in Philly was within walking distance.

“That would be nice, Alfred,” Bruce said.

“I’ll help,” Jason said, wanting to be useful. No one had let him do anything so far. Alfred thanked him with a smile.

They sat around eating sandwiches while Cass and Tim played their hand at Street Fighter V. Naturally, Cass won as always.

“I want to try,” Bruce said and everyone snapped their heads to look at him. “What? I can have fun.”

“Then I guess I’ll be your opponent,” Babs said, a mean smirk playing on her face as Cass handed her the controller.

Jason looked around the room at his family, a warm, gooey feeling spreading from his chest all the way to his toes. He loved his family, it would be sad when they left. He bit his lip, unsure of how he was going to feel when they were all gone and it was just him in here all alone. It was better not to think of it until the time came. All he wanted to do was enjoy this moment. Dick nudged him with his thigh as he gestured down at Tim who was asleep on Dick’s arm.

“Still can’t believe we let a stalker into the family,” Jason joked.

Tim cracked open an eye. “I heard that. Don’t make me leak your identity to the press.”

\--

High school graduation was… nice. Jason was valedictorian, even though he didn’t particularly want to be. His speech spoke of literature and birds, his family and his friends, his ups and his downs. Dick watched, not bothering to wipe away the tears that ran down his cheeks when his brother used a Robin metaphor. Bruce didn’t cry, but Dick was sure he was crying on the inside and of course, Alfred recorded the whole thing.

His brother walked that stage like he owned it. Dick knew that he was in college already. He’d make a ton of friends, ran up the Rocky steps, and took a picture with that dumb bell. Some guy, that Dick was prettt sure had a crush on Jay, took a ton of photos of his little brother resting by the water, reading a book. His brother was an Ivy League freshman on his way to becoming an Ivy League graduate, so of course the Wayne family cheered the loudest when Jason Todd’s name was called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miiiiight end this little fic next chapter and start a new one for Jason’s college life with like an actual plot lol I have something in mind for it, so we’ll see!! I’m officially at “year one” now so I guess that would be as good of a time as any to start a new fic? But I also might just keep it all here for simplicity and have that plot take place in Jason’s senior year of college. This will be a series though! I have a lot of places I want to take this (: 
> 
> Let me know your opinions in the comments and don’t forget to tell me your favourite part of the chapter!


	5. This family, it grows and grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time flies and Steph and Dami join the family (:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew!! I’m here and alive lol wrote this chapter in a couple hours and didn’t edit so it maaay feel off kilter but there’s just one more to go until this fic is done and I can get to the main event.
> 
> I’m also working on a couple of original stories (I’m writing a novel so there’s that) so my time is a little split up between projects, hence the delay. But I hope you enjoy and please don’t forget to comment and tell me your favourite part!
> 
> (Also, this is my first time writing Steph and I’m not like... super confident about it so lol hopefully she’s enjoyable hahahahahaaaaa cries)

Empty nest syndrome hit Bruce hard in Jason’s first year of university. His father wouldn’t admit to it, but Jason knew. All the kids knew. That was why when Tim’s parents died on vacation, no one was surprised that Bruce willingly opened up his home to the new orphan. Tim was grieving silently, but he was grieving all the same. The funeral hadn’t been any sort of poetic justice. There wasn’t a cloud in sight which wasn’t exactly typical for Gotham. Tim said his mother would’ve preferred it that way, anyways.

Jason wasn’t any good at comforting people over traumatic loss. He’d found his own mother dead on the bathroom floor after trying to find food for them to eat. His father had turned to a life of crime in order to provide, wound up arrested, and then killed by the very men he worked for. Jason hadn’t ever had the time to say goodbye. Neither of his parents had funerals. One day they were there and the next they weren’t.

Sheila wasn’t any different, really. Jason had talked to her maybe twice since turning eighteen. Bruce hadn’t been happy about it, but it was cathartic all the same. His birth mother didn’t have much to say for herself, she apologized with tears and whimpers, her hand against the glass. Jason had been nice enough to lay his hand against hers. He forgave her, but there was nothing in this world she could offer him that Bruce already hadn’t. Dr. Jones had helped him to see that.

She also helped him to see that Tim wasn’t any sort of replacement. Jason wasn’t exactly proud of the way he’s reacted to Bruce adopting Tim, but he had scheduled solo sessions with Dr. Jones all on his own to help him figure it out. And that was something he never thought he’d do.

“Jason, you love Tim don’t you?”

The question made him blush. He was his father’s son after all, Jason didn’t do declarations of love unless it was about literature, movies, or food. But, of course he loved Tim. The kid was like a little brother to him. He belonged in the family whether his parents were dead or alive. And that was exactly what Jason told Dr. Jones.

“So, then don’t you think that by adopting Tim, Bruce is simply acting on the way you already feel for him?”

It was something to think about.

“Tim doesn’t have anyone else but he most certainly adores you. Think of it less as Bruce taking in a new son to replace the one who has just moved out and more as Bruce creating the family you _all_ deserve.”

The more Jason thought about it that way, the less angry he became. Still, calling Tim his replacement was absolute comedic gold. And it got him thinking a little more about other stuff, too. Maybe Tim hasn’t replaced him at home, but he could maybe replace him in the field. After all, every kid deserved to feel the magic of Robin.

They would talk about it later.

—

Dick could not believe that Jason was going into his second year of university already. It was downright difficult for him to wrap his mind around considering he had dropped out of university after a single semester. Crazy how his little brother was surpassing him in almost everything thus far. Crazier was the fact that Dick wasn’t even jealous. When he looked back on the way he used to feel with Jason before the Joker got his hands on him, it felt like an out of body experience. He couldn’t empathize with his past self anymore, not when every day with Jason was a downright blessing.

Bruce was adjusting better to Jason’s absence too. Their father still got cranky whenever Jason blew them off to hang with friends and he was paranoid that Jason had gotten himself a significant other without telling anyone, but he could be talked down easy. Babs made jokes about how Jason was too awkward to date anyone. Tim disagreed but said that Jason was too much like Bruce (ie: emotionally constipated) to keep anyone around for long. Cass made jokes that Jason was a lonely old spinster. And Dick? Well, Dick just made it clear that if Jason had anyone in his life who was _that_ important, he wouldn’t keep them away for long. Bruce still worried, but he worried less.

Jason was no longer the slightly reckless kid with anger issues they were all so fond of remembering. The more pure aspects of his personality had taken over in recent years. His experience as a theatre kid had him trying out for parts at local plays (which they all went to, naturally), and his love for literature got him published in a chapbook on campus (Dick bought five copies. They were only $5 a piece!)

There was a running joke that, somehow, despite all his bad luck, Bruce Wayne had actually managed to raise two fully functioning adults. Cass was a bit trickier to include considering how late in the game they got her, but Bruce and Barbara were making headway with that, too.

Though, it seemed that no matter how well the kids were doing, Bruce sunk further into his own melancholy. They talked about it during therapy, but Bruce deflected conversation onto the kids. And obviously Dr. Jones noticed, but all she did was write a little tick in her notebook every time it happened. Dick figured that they were working on it in solo sessions and did his best to leave it alone. Bruce’s mood had improved when Jason returned for the summer, but now that he was back to Penn, Bruce was sulking.

So naturally the old man threw himself into work. But work was not helping. Bruce was miserable anytime Dick entered the cave. Tim had started migrating down there. He didn’t have a role, yet. The whole _Robin’s just a big red target for hurting Batman_ thing had set Bruce off. He vowed that there was to be no more caped minors under his watch. It was a rant he went on often nowadays, though Dick couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. He didn’t patrol in Gotham often. There just wasn’t any time for it. Whatever Bruce chose to share was all Dick really knew and clearly Bruce didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him now.

Didn’t want to talk until he needed Dicks help that is.

“There’s a girl. I need you to talk to her”

“That’s really ominous, Bruce.” Dick laughed. “What’s going on? Who is this girl?”

“Her name is Stephanie Brown. Her father is a criminal by the name of the Cluemaster. She’s found herself embroiled in his nonsense… she goes around calling herself Spoiler. I’ve tried talking to her but she just keeps screaming that I’m not her father and she doesn’t have to listen to me.”

“Wow. Sounds really similar to another kid I know…”

Bruce looked at him, one eyebrow cocked.

“Jason,” Dick explained, deadpan. Then, he laughed again. “Come on, that’s totally something twelve-year-old Jason would do.”

“Hnn. Will you talk to her?”

Dick shrugged. “I’ll try. It’s dangerous out there for anyone, much less an untrained vigilante. She is untrained, right?”

“Extremely inexperienced, yes.”

Dick nodded. “Okay, yeah. I’ll do my best.”

Turned out his best was not good enough. It took two weeks of patrolling for Nightwing to come across Spoiler and when he did, oh boy it wasn’t pretty. Stephanie Brown was as inexperienced as Bruce said, but Dick felt the need to take his comparison to Jason back just a _little_. Spoiler was more like a mix of Robin and Robin II. She had Dick’s sunny personality, but Jason’s experience of growing up in the seedier parts of town. She was stubborn as the both of them combined.

“You know, I appreciate Batman sending you to talk to me but I’m not going to stop being Spoiler!” She said and Dick wondered how scrunched up her brows were under that mask. “I _like_ being Spoiler. I’m doing good for the city and someone has to take my dad down.”

Nightwing sighed and gestured down to the city below them. “Why do that when Batman can handle it?” He asked. It was a stupid question. Spoiler was acting on the only agency she had and he knew that feeling. It was exactly the way he’d acted before Batman took him in for training.

“Because he’s my dad!” She argued. “And also because I’m a free woman who can do whatever she wants.”

Nightwing frowned. “How old are you?” He already knew. Stephanie Brown was just a year older than Tim. She was seventeen-years-old.

“None of your beeswax.”

“You don’t seem all that old.”

Spoiler huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, neither do you.”

That was probably true. Dick was almost twenty-five but he still looked like he was Jason’s age. “Spoiler, look. I get that this is a hard life to give up… really, I do, but you can still walk away.”

“How? How am I supposed to walk away when my dad has literal criminals living in my home?”

“He was what?” Batman hadn’t told him that.

Spoiler was silent for a moment before he heard her sniff. Her breathing was ragged and hard, as if she were mad at herself for crying. Nightwings heart sunk. “How am I supposed to go back there? But I can’t just abandon Mom, either. Not that she even really comes home anymore.” Her voice was tiny and hard. Sad and angry.

Nightwing put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey… we’ll figure it out. Um,” he looked around and sighed before hitting the active button on his comm. “B?”

“Copy.”

“I know this wasn’t apart of the plan but I’m bringing Spoiler back to the cave.”

“Nightwing, no I don’t trust he—”

“B, I’m not asking,” he cut his father off. “She has nowhere else to go. This is my call, we can argue about it later. Nightwing, out.”

Spoiler eyed him warily, but she didn’t move away from his touch. “Where are you taking me?”

Nightwing grinned. “You wanna see Batman’s secret lair?”

—

Tim shouldn’t have been jealous of Stephanie Brown but he _was_ . He knew that she was the reason Bruce went on rants about inexperienced children in the field and how he would never allow another child out there under his watch, but she had also looked Bruce Wayne, _the_ Batman in the eye, and basically told him to fuck right off. Bruce hadn’t been deterred by her attitude, but still. Tim wished he was half as ballsy as her.

And, okay, maybe his jealousy was mixing up with attraction, too. Stephanie Brown was what Jason called a blonde bombshell. Was it even fair for a teenage vigilante to be that beautiful? Tim found himself a little tongue-tied around her, so instead of articulating how downright amazing he thought she was, he kept telling her that Bruce was right and she shouldn’t be acting as Spoiler unless she wanted to get herself killed.

So far, it’d been six months of him lecturing her and all she ever responded with was an eye roll. Dick and Jason had put the pressure on Bruce to start training her _and_ give her some better armor, so there wasn’t really any reason to freak out about it now. Didn’t stop Tim from worrying though.

And then Jason came to him with a proposition.

“How would you feel if I… maybe gave you Robin? That way you could keep an eye on Bruce and Steph for Dick and I.”

Those words had shocked Tim to the core. He didn’t even know how to respond other than the general open and close of his mouth that made him feel like a fucking fish. When he finally found his voice the first thing he asked was, “What about Bruce? Won’t he be mad?”

Jason shrugged. “I talked to him already. We both agree you can’t be any worse than Blondie.”

Tim snorted. “I probably could.”

He didn’t mean to be so self-deprecating but it was hard not to be. He’d been helping Bruce with cases for over a year now. His mentor-slash-father-figure was pretty open with the nice compliments.

“ _You’re a good detective, Tim. Maybe even better than me_ ,” he’d say and that was without Tim having all the puzzle pieces to play with. But he wasn’t anywhere near Bruce’s level in terms of physicality. Self-defence was made mandatory under the Wayne Manor roof, but Tim didn’t feel comfortable going out and facing bad guys. He could only spar with his siblings for fun, and even then he didn’t win every time.

“Hey,” Jason said, his voice gentle in that way that let Tim know he was playing the role of Good, Encouraging Big Brother. “You _can_ do this, but only it’s if _you_ want to. You’re the one who always gets in a tizzy when Bruce comes back hurt ‘cause no one was watching his back.”

Tim flushed. He _had_ become rather famous in the house for his nagging, but it wasn’t like he was lying! Batman needed a partner. He just wasn’t sure if that partner should be _him_. Jason didn’t give time, Dick didn’t want to move back to Gotham, Cass liked her freedom too much, and Steph… well, Tim was pretty sure Steph would only last two weeks before Bruce fired her.

“Just think about it? But don’t psych yourself out about it. Dick and I will give you all the training you need before you take your first step out into the night.”

Tim pursed his lips, nodding. “Okay. Thanks, Jason.” It was heartfelt. He’d never thought there would come a time where any of them really considered him one of them.

—

Bruce didn’t quite understand how or why he’d picked up children like littered clothes on his son’s apartment floor, but miraculously the boy who had lost his parents before puberty grew into a man who had _four_ babies. Though, apparently a year after his fourth became his new Robin, Bruce learned he had a fifth. And said fifth had tried to kill his fourth.

Damian al Ghul, or… _Wayne_ , according to the five DNA tests Bruce had run, was the product of him and an old flame that left a smouldering hole in Bruce’s heart. Talia al Ghul was one of the most beautiful women Bruce had ever seen and not much had changed since then. She hadn’t aged a day, a byproduct of her father’s obsession with immortality. Her skin was smooth and free of scars but her eyes were cold and hard as if she’d seen too much to ever forget. Bruce was sure that she had.

His attempts to rescue Talia from her father had failed multiple times. Dick understood Bruce’s relationship with her the best, and although he regarded her coldly, there was empathy for her somewhere in that big heart of his and that was necessary when all Bruce could feel was blind rage.

“You told me you lost the baby.” His words were cold. He stood far away from her, unwilling to let himself fall into her comforting arms and slick words she used for manipulation. Talia wasn’t evil. Or, at least he used to believe that. Now he wasn’t so sure. “We were married. I killed for you.”

He didn’t talk about Qayin often, or at all. The only people who knew what Bruce had done were Alfred and Dr. Jones. He planned on keeping it that way. The thought of taking that man’s life, evil or not, made him sick. Dr. Jones had helped him to accept that he couldn’t ask people to live by his standard and moral code but that didn’t mean he gave up on it for himself.

“I know all of what you have done for me, Beloved. This was not a matter of trust.”

“No? Then what? Manipulation? Control?”

Talia’s perfect lips twitched downward for a moment but she did not frown. “Do you not think if that were my intention, I would have kept you by my side? The League was ruining you. I could not stand by and watch the man I love perish right before my eyes. I should have never asked you to handle my brother, Beloved.”

Her words didn’t quell his anger, but they did calm him enough to speak again, “You kept my _son_ from me.”

“Yes and now I introduce him to you.”

“Why now?”

Talia hesitated for just a beat, which let Bruce know she was ready to be honesty. Honesty didn’t come without pain for the al Ghul’s. They lied with an ease as smooth as polished marble. Bruce always knew Talia loved him by the way she hesitated to touch him or even look at him. She was a conflicted woman.

“My father. He wants to use Damian’s body as a vessel. I was unable to stop him from filling our son’s head with… vile nonsense. He is but a child, beloved. I could not stand by and watch him fall to the hand of Ra’s.”

“And what about you?” Bruce asked, more curious than anything else. “You will let yourself fall to your father's hand?”

“I believe it may be too late for me,” she said, almost sounding sad. “There is no one to rescue me from my fate. Damian has an entire family he can acquaint himself with. Allies who will come to love him and will want the best for him the same way I do.”

“The boy needs his mother. You’re all he’s ever known, Talia.”

“My father will come for me.”

Bruce knew that was true. He hated it. “You deserve your freedom.”

“Will you look after him?”

Bruce nodded. Of course he would. “He’s my son.”

Talia seemed to relax. It wasn’t a dramatic shift of the shoulders or a loud exhale, but her saw the green of her eyes relax against the white, her eyelids drooping just a little. She still looked sharp and ready for anything, but she wasn’t on the defensive anymore.

“I shall take my leave. Thank you for seeing me, Beloved.”

Bruce thought of how different life could’ve been if only he’d been able to save her as he watched her go.

—

Father was a weak man who adopted children like an old, lonely woman adopted stray cats. And Damian liked cats, so maybe that wasn’t entirely an insult but his adoration for felines was hardly besides the point. The point was: Father was pathetic. He sought out love and comfort like a child. If there was one thing his grandfather had taught him, it was that love was a weakness.

He stood at the top of the stairs with his arms crossed, watching as Grayson hugged Todd and called him his _Little Wing_ . Father was smiling as he watched them. The Batman smiled? Why? Grandfather said that he was the night. The night was supposed to be terrifying, not a single father of four (five!) who attended family therapy and talked out his feelings with a doctor. He felt deceived. And then Father _hugged_ Todd and Damian felt enraged.

“Dami! Come greet your big brother! You hardly ever get to see him,” Grayson called to him, looking happy as a clam. Damian didn’t understand this family.

But the best way to understand was to observe, so Damian moved down one step at a time until he was in front of this Jason Todd-Wayne. Ugh, they shared a name. At least Grayson had the decency to keep Father out of his identity. Todd was just as much of a mooch as Drake and Brown, if not more.

Cain seemed to materialize out of the thin air like the League trained soldier she was. She flicked the back of his head. “Do not be rude.” Her speech was much better now than it had been in the past, apparently, though she still had a slight impediment. Damian didn’t say anything about it because he respected her.

“I did not say a word,” he snapped at her, glaring unceremoniously.

“It comes off you in waves,” she said, narrowing her eyes right back at him.

Damian clicked his tongue and raised his nose high in the air.

“Well, it is super nice to see you again, Demonbird.” Todd insulted him so casually that it was almost like second nature. Damian couldn’t believe this.

He snapped his head up to look at him. “You dare refer to me that way?” He asked, all heat but no weapon. Still, he could kill with his bare hands though Todd’s stature might prove to be a problem. He was bigger than Father, or maybe he was the same size. Damian couldn’t quite tell when they were in civilian clothes. “I am the grandson of Ra’s al Ghul, the greatest man to ever walk this forsaken earth! Apologize at once, Todd!”

Jason only laughed, but at least it earned him a half-glare from Father.

“You really _shouldn’t_ call him that, Jaybird.”

Jaybird? _Ugh_. Father had terms of endearment for this trash? Still, he’d taken Damian’s side.

“Yes, Todd. Apologize.” His chest puffed out in pride.

Todd rolled his eyes and moved past him to ascend the steps. “Maybe when you stop being a brat. I’ve heard the stories.”

Damian had jealousy problems according to Father’s therapist. He was required to see her twice a week until she deemed him stable enough to join in on the family sessions. It’d been four months and Dr. Jones claimed Damian was doing better already. She’d even given him a trivial lollipop and a sticker… Damian put the sticker on his notebook.

But the more Damian watched Father and Todd interact, he realized that Grayson hadn’t been kidding when he said Jason was Father's favourite. The _street rat_ was Father's most beloved son… That made Damian want to set this whole place on fire. He would have if he didn’t live here. How could father choose this trash over him? Damian was blood!

He watched Todd go, unable to move or say anything. Maybe he was just as pathetic as his father was. Could such a thing run in the family?

—

Timothy Drake was nice enough to invite Steph over for New Years Eve, although clearly he didn’t communicate with Cass much or else he’d have already known she was coming. Alfred had decorated the house in gold. There were glasses with the year written on them all laid out on the table with snacks.

Bruce and his boys were on the couch watching a movie with popcorn. Dick looked happy, Jason looked placid, Bruce seemed amused enough, and Damian was pretending to be downright miserable but Steph knew he was happy to be wedged between his dad and Dick.

Tim didn’t look anything but pleased to see her, though she noticed his eyes dim in disappointment when Cass trailed behind her, holding her hand. Steph gave him a quick smile all the same before her and Cass took over their favourite armchair.

No one really spoke and Steph realized they were watching Monty Python, though it was at the final scene. When it was over, Steph put a vote in for watching Mean Girls or Clueless, Jason and Dick voted for Clueless.

“Is that the movie with Paul Rudd?” Bruce asked, faintly amused

Steph gave him a look as Cass navigated through Netflix. “Are you a Paul Rudd fan, Bruce?”

“Hardly,” he deadpanned, but Steph knew the truth. Bruce was a dirty, rotten Paul Rudd fan just like the rest of the world.

“It’s okay if he’s your celebrity crush,” Jason teased. “My celebrity crush is Jason Mamoa. And Sophia Vegara.”

Bruce only rolled his eyes while Dick chuckled. Steph grinned at Jason over he back of the couch.

“Well, your namesake is hot.”

Jason nodded, sagelike. “I know.”

Steph liked how no one really discussed Jason’s bisexuality because there was nothing about it to discuss. It was just something that _was_. Though, that was how she would describe the Wayne’s in general. They couldn’t necessarily be contained with words, trying to sum them up was practically impossible; there was no point in trying to discuss the dynamic or lay it out for better understanding.

The Wayne Family simply were who they were. No explanation necessary.

Clueless took over the screen for about an hour and a handful of minutes until it was almost time for the countdown. Alfred came in with champagne and sparkling cider. He slapped Jason and Steph’s hands away when they tried to reach for the alcohol, muttering something about birds of a feather. Jason grinned at her as he threw a heavy arm around her shoulder, but she was sturdy, she could take it.

“Birds of a feather stick together,” he said.

Steph laughed and snaked an arm around his back. “They sure do.”

Dick joined them, saddling up to Jason’s side with a pout. If there was one thing Steph had learned in her full year of hanging around here, it was that Dick hated to be left out of anything including his brothers. He leaned his head on Jason’s shoulder just as Bruce turned the television to the countdown in Times Square.

Cheers of the New Year filled the Den with hugs and kisses, and Stephanie felt like she was both an intruder and a part of this family all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the final chapter! It’ll probably be a much shorter one, but like I said once this one is done I’ll be delving into the reaaaal story. 
> 
> Next up: Jason graduates from college and decides on a career path that leads to some Interesting Things.


End file.
